


Never Did Run Smooth

by LittlebutFiery



Series: Jane & Garrus [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: AU, But also semi-canon compliant, F/M, Lots of minor appearances from other characters, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6027130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The humans have won the First Contact War, enslaving the turians in retribution. With space safe for humans to settle, seven-year-old Jane Shepard's family moves to a colony, leaving her uprooted and friendless but itching for adventure. Meanwhile, a young Garrus Vakarian's life is thrown into turmoil when the slave trade separates him from what's left of his family. When the two meet, they quickly form a bond that will change their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starting All Over

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen plenty of First Contact AUs where the turians win, but not really any where the humans win. I started wondering - what would happen if they had? - and this is the result.

The docking bay was crowded, packed from wall to wall with humans, cargo, and more than a few aliens. Jane had never seen an alien before, not in real life, and she was _fascinated_. Her parents were quickly getting frustrated with dragging her along, but she didn’t care – this was all so new and exciting and made her wonder how she had ever wanted to stay on Earth.

A new alien caught her eye, something huge and gray and vaguely gorilla-shaped, and she regarded it curiously until it intoned, “Offended. What are you staring at, tiny human?”

Jane squeaked in surprise and ran to cling to her mother’s arm.

The crowd thinned as the Shepards exited the shuttle bay, colonists dispersing to find their new homes. This colony was brand new, and although the city center was hardly more than temporary buildings and a dirt road, it was buzzing with activity as workers tried to get everything up and running.

“Mom, what was that thing?” Jane asked, once she was sure they were out of earshot of the huge alien she’d offended.

“I didn’t see it. What did it look like?” Jane’s mother Hannah asked, preoccupied with trying to find something on her datapad. 

“It said it was offended, but it didn’t sound like it,” Jane replied. “It looked like it would be fun to arm wrestle!” 

“That was an elcor, Janie. Be careful around them, okay? They’re very strong, and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Hannah replied, pulling Jane into a one armed hug. “No arm wrestling for you. I think an elcor would squish you.”

“I can take it!” Jane insisted, prompting her parents to laugh.

“Well, looks like we won’t have to worry about her being scared of aliens after all,” Jane’s father Joseph chuckled to his wife.

“They’re cool!” Jane butted in excitedly. “Will I get to see more?”

“I’m sure you will, sweetie,” Hannah nodded. “There are all kinds of aliens.”

“Where’s the address, Han?” Joseph asked, shushing Jane before she could say anything else about aliens.

“Looks like it’s off this road,” Hannah replied, squinting at her datapad. “These maps are so hard to read…”

Jane quickly tuned out their dull adult conversation, much too busy trying to take everything in. To her left, a man was having an argument with…a giant jellyfish? Jane figured it had to be some kind of alien, but her parents were too busy for her to ask them. She would just have to draw it for them later. And over on her right was a group of giggling women who would’ve looked human, except for their blue skin and tentacle-y hair.

This was a good start – she’d already seen three alien species since she’d been on this planet, and she was hardly even looking. The details were a little fuzzy, but Jane was pretty sure she’d remember them well enough to draw them. All of her art from home seemed so mundane now that she’d already seen more on this planet than she dreamed possible. It would be a nice contrast, Jane admitted to herself, having drawings of her friends on Earth next to drawings of all the exciting new sights.

She couldn’t help but ask herself again how she had _ever_ wanted to stay back on Earth.

*

_“Reports indicate that the Turian Hierarchy has offered an unconditional surrender to the Alliance Navy. The surrender was accepted by Admiral Jon Grissom, Commander of the Alliance forces, and Lieutenant Commander David Anderson, whose actions in the final battle of the war led to complete Alliance victory…_ ”

_Jane had no idea what the report meant, or why her parents looked so deep in thought – she just wanted them to put her favorite show back on. When they looked like they were going to continue watching the news for hours, she finally gave up and went to go draw in her room._

_It was almost dinnertime when Hannah came into Jane’s room, sitting on the floor beside her. She commented, “I like your drawing, sweetie.”_

_“Thanks, Mom,” Jane replied, carefully writing ‘by Jane Shepard, Age 7’ in the corner of the paper._

_“I have something I wanted to talk to you about, Janie,” Hannah said. Her voice sounded a little strange; when Jane looked up, she noticed her mother was biting at her fingernails._

_“Is everything okay?” Jane asked, stomach twisting._

_“Everything’s fine,” Hannah promised. “Your dad and I were just talking.”_

_Jane waited for her to get to the point. “Well, honey, now that the war is over, they’re going to be looking for people to start new colonies, since space is safer now. And your dad and I have decided that we’re going to move to one of them.”_

_“Move…where?” Jane asked, trying to wrap her mind around the idea. “Like California, like Sarah?”_

_“No, sweetie. To another planet. It’s called Elysium – doesn’t that sound like a pretty place?” Hannah replied._

_“What?” Jane demanded, pushing her mother’s comforting hug away. “No! I like New York! I don’t want to move to another stupid planet!”_

_“I know. But Elysium is a new start for us. We’ll have a nice big house where you can play outside. It’ll be so much better for you than our little apartment now. This is a big chance, and I really think it’ll be a good change for us,” Hannah assured her._

_“I want to stay here,” Jane persisted petulantly._

_“I’m sorry, Janie. But we’re moving next month. I’m sure if you give it a chance, you’ll end up liking Elysium. Maybe even as much as Earth,” Hannah replied._

_Jane ignored her, returning to her coloring in angry silence. Hannah pressed a kiss to her hair and left Jane alone to handle the news in the ways she thought best._

_She would never admit it, but Jane had cried for hours. Hardly anything, not even breaking her wrist, could make her cry, but that single bit of news had cracked her tough exterior. Jane had everything she wanted on Earth – friends, family, places to explore, a teacher she liked – and all of that was getting taken away._

_It had been a week before Jane would speak to her parents again, but despite her pride, she knew when she had lost. She began packing up her things, vowing that someday she’d come back to Earth, one way or another._

*

She still wanted to visit Earth again; that much hadn’t changed. But Jane knew now how silly she’d been fighting against moving. Elysium was amazing, and there was something magical about space and stars and all the aliens she was seeing.

By the time Jane had come out of her thoughts, she was standing with her parents outside a very small house. It looked permanent enough, but it was certainly nothing special or even particularly homey.

“Whose house is that?” Jane asked.

“…Ours, apparently,” Joseph grumbled.

“I thought it was supposed to be big!” Jane protested.

“So did we, but this is the address we got,” Hannah replied, checking the house number against her datapad one more time. “It’s okay. Once we start making some money, we can expand it.”

“Can we go in?” Jane asked. If she was going to be living there, she wanted to explore and find every nook and cranny and hiding space.

“Our things won’t be here for a little while longer, but if you want to look around, you can,” Joseph nodded, tousling her hair. “Don’t break anything.”

Jane trotted inside. The house looked bigger inside than out, with a living room, a kitchen, and even two bedrooms. Jane couldn’t help but sigh in relief that she’d still have a room to herself.

She poked around the kitchen and living room for a while, disappointed to find that there was hardly anywhere to hide. The bigger bedroom was off-limits, she knew – her parents had the big room back on Earth and she wasn’t allowed inside unless she asked. Somehow, she figured that hadn’t changed with the move.

That left the smaller bedroom to look around. It was still larger than Jane’s room back home, more than enough room for her and all her toys and drawings. She peered into the bathroom, decided there wouldn’t be any secret hiding spaces in there, and returned to her room.

_Her_ room. She liked that.

She pulled her drawing pad out of her backpack, along with a red marker – her favorite color. Jane quickly, but meticulously, wrote out ‘JANES ROOM,’ fished a roll of tape out of her backpack, and taped it to the door.

Now it really was her room. There was lots of work to do, lots of drawings to be done to hang up on the wall. But that was okay – she could tell she would have a lot of adventures worth drawing here on Elysium.

Maybe starting all over could be a good thing, after all.


	2. Market Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I forgot a little section that will come back later in the story, so I added that in.

“Garrus.”

 

“Garrus!”

 

“ _Garrus!_ ” 

The young turian shot upright, scared by the tone in his mother’s voice. “What?”

“You need to get ready,” his mother, Vestia, replied, holding up some clothes for him.

“It’s not even seven,” Garrus moaned, glancing at the clock. “Five more minutes, please?”

“It’s market day – you know you can’t be late,” Vestia insisted. “Up. Come on.”

Garrus was just climbing out of bed when there was a sharp bang at their door. The slot in the door slid open, revealing a double set of eyes. Their visitor snarled, “You better be ready on time, you vermin. Shuttle in five minutes.”

The slot slammed loud enough to wake Garrus’s baby sister, Solana, who started wailing. Vestia sighed, handing Garrus his clothes. “Come on, love. Get dressed. Shh, Solana…it’s okay.”

Garrus couldn’t help but notice the trembling in his mother’s vocals as she cooed at Solana, how she barely kept down the hacking coughs that had been plaguing her more and more. Someday, he vowed, he’d get them out of this, give them a real home and see his mother smile again. He’d make his father proud.

“Garrus! Hurry!” Vestia’s voice broke through his thoughts and he had to scramble to get dressed and sprint to the shuttle.

His visitor from earlier was waiting impatiently for him. Garrus hated the batarians that crewed the ship, but he hated the overseer especially. He’d had it out for Garrus from the beginning, for whatever reason, and that had done little to warm Garrus to him. They treated Garrus like it was his fault no one ever wanted him, but it _wasn’t_ his fault that he was so much younger and smaller than the other turians.

“You’re late,” the overseer snarled.

_Bite me_ , Garrus thought, but instead he said, “My sister was crying. My mom needed help.”

The overseer responded with a harsh slap. “Does it look like I care? Get on the shuttle.”

For just a moment, he wished his mother were there to comfort him, before he caught himself. No, he was glad she was going to stay safe and sound on the ship, and not headed off to a slave market on some planet or another. She’d only gone to one market day before the batarians realized her rattling cough and Solana’s incessant cries scared off potential buyers – now Garrus was the only Vakarian carted off to markets.

The shuttle rides always scared Garrus, even if the turian pride his father had instilled in him prevented him from ever admitting it. The atmosphere on the ship was overwhelming, almost palpable.

Despair.

Garrus glanced from turian to turian for reassurance, but they all hardly looked alive. Their eyes were all glassy and hopeless; their shoulders had lost their proud warriors’ posture in favor of defeated slumps. He felt like he was sitting in a cemetery.

The shuttle landed with more of a crash and moan than the gentle hiss of all the ships docking around them. Garrus was one of the last to disembark, practically shoved out the door by the overseer.

This planet was pretty, Garrus thought, as he followed the procession to the marketplace. There were lush green trees everywhere, and somewhere off in the distance were massive snow-capped mountains. This wouldn’t be a bad place to stay in his book.

Not that he’d get sold. He never garnered so much as a second glance, if he even got a first one. Garrus was by far the youngest turian they bothered sending to the slave markets, and he was much too little for anyone to spend money on him.

Thus, he had to stand around for hours, knowing he didn’t stand a chance, when he could be back on the ship helping his mother take care of Solana. This market in particular was tiny, hardly more than a semicircle of tents. The planet had clearly just been colonized, and that meant he had even less of a chance than usual.

Garrus hated being the runt of the litter. He’d always been the biggest among his friends, but that didn’t mean much when surrounded by turians three times his age. At least he was one of the smartest, he knew that much. The overseer had nearly strangled him when he caught Garrus hacking into the ship’s computer to try to get more food for his mother.

There wasn’t much to do in the market besides stand there, so Garrus tried to get a good look at his surroundings. It had been a game he always played with his father, trying to see who could notice the most unusual details about the place they were in. Garrus’s father, Titus, had always been so good at it. Maybe being a sniper did that, gave you eagle eyes.

Garrus tried to channel his father’s eagle eyes as he looked around, but instead his ears picked up on something unusual. A quiet female voice was saying, “Joe, are you sure about this? This…doesn’t seem right to me.”

“If we try to get the farm set up without any help, it’ll be _years_ before we make any money. We need to do this,” a male voice insisted.

The woman sighed. “…Okay. Let’s just pick one that’ll be good with domestic stuff too, okay?”

“Fair enough,” the man replied.

The couple came into Garrus’s field of vision as they continued debating. The woman was fair and slender, with a shock of red hair – she reminded Garrus of a candle. She was fidgeting nervously as they walked along the line of turians, twisting a ring on her left hand and twirling her hair around her finger. The man was a giant, sturdily built with a huge chest and powerful muscles. He didn’t look cruel, but he was certainly far more intimidating than the woman he was with.

“Oh, God. Joe, they have a little one,” the woman practically wailed when she saw Garrus.

“Hannah, this isn’t a pet shop,” Joe brushed her off. “We’re looking for a turian to help on the farm _now_ , not one who can help on the farm in ten years.”

“Joe, look at him! He’s so little. He shouldn’t have to grow up like this,” Hannah insisted.

“He’s a _slave_ , Han. He’s going to grow up like this whether he’s in a home or on a slave ship,” Joe scowled.

Garrus’s stomach twisted as he realized Joe was right. He was so eager to get off the ship and escape the batarians. But was being a slave for some human family any better? Could it be even worse? He had somehow convinced himself that once he was sold, everything would be better. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“…What if we got him to help take care of Janie, and then we could work on the farm together?” Hannah offered.

“He’s smaller than her! _She’d_ be taking care of _him_!” Joe protested.

Garrus couldn’t help himself. There was something motherly in Hannah’s demeanor that reminded him of his own mother. He blurted out, “I take care of my little sister!”

“What?” Joe asked.

Well, now he was in too far to stop. “I have a baby sister. I help my mom take care of her. I…I could take care of somebody.”

“See?” Hannah scowled at Joe. “I think it’s a good arrangement.”

“Damn it, Hannah,” Joe sighed. “Are you good for anything else, little guy? Farming? Fixing things?”

“I…” Garrus stopped. He’d never really done any of that. “I…like calibrating computers…and stuff.”

“Yeah, no,” Joe shook his head. “Moving on, Han.”

“Please,” Garrus practically whimpered. He didn’t know what it was about these people, but there was something in him desperate to go with them. Something told him that things would end up okay if he could convince them to take him.

“You know the rules about talking, runt!” It was the overseer who had just walked by. Garrus flinched, not even needing to see the batarian to know he was raising his pistol to hit him.

“Stop,” Hannah’s voice was suddenly cold and commanding.

Garrus opened his eyes to find both Joe and the overseer staring at Hannah in surprise. The batarian demanded, “ _What?_ ”

“He’s ours. Don’t touch him,” Hannah snapped back.

“For _fuck’s_ sake…” Joe sighed, aggravated. “Hannah…”

“You heard me,” Hannah said. She turned back to the overseer. “How much?”

The batarian tossed a disgusted glance at Garrus. “…Ten thousand.”

Both humans recoiled, along with Garrus. There was no way he was worth that much. The overseer was playing games with them, trying to get them to back down, or something.

Hannah glared at Joe, who was ready to say no until he caved. “Fine. Done. I’ll transfer it.”

The batarian pulled up his omni-tool, waited until the credits transferred, and then promptly shoved Garrus at the humans. “All yours. Good riddance.”

“Wait,” Joe said. “He said he had a family. Let him say goodbye.”

The overseer glared at him, but the big man was as unwilling to back down as his wife was. After a long stare-down, the batarian dragged Garrus back to the shuttle.

For once in Garrus’s life, a shuttle ride wasn’t full of despair. There was apprehension, definitely, and sadness too. He wasn’t letting himself think about how this was going to be the last time he ever saw his mother or Solana. No, he definitely wasn’t thinking about that. He was excited, thrilled to finally be off the slave ship and be free of the batarians and getting to live on that beautiful planet. Definitely…he was definitely excited.

Garrus was a horrible liar, and he knew it.

Vestia looked concerned when Garrus walked into the kitchen, where she was hard at work making the crew’s lunch. “Garrus? You’re back early. Is everything okay?”

“I…got sold. I’m going to be taking care of a human girl,” Garrus replied. Solana, cradled in one of her mother’s arms, started crying again.

Vestia’s mandibles flared in a sad smile. “I’m proud of you, sweetie. You’ll be wonderful. The people who have you now are lucky.”

“I don’t want to go,” Garrus said pitifully. “I want to stay with you and Solana.”

“I know, love. And I want to keep you with me forever. But this will be so much better for you,” Vestia replied, hugging her son close. “I know this is hard, but you’re strong. If _anyone_ can make it through this, it’s you.”

Garrus nodded weakly. He pressed his forehead to his mother’s, hoping it said ‘I love you’ in all the ways his vocals were utterly failing him.

They stayed that way for a moment before Vestia said, “I have something for you, Garrus.”

The pain in her subvocals caught Garrus’s attention. “What?”

She pulled something out of her pocket and pressed it into Garrus’s hands. He opened his hands and looked at it. “Dogtags?”

“Those are your father’s. Keep them, and remember your family,” Vestia replied.

“Are you sure you want me to have them?” Garrus asked weakly. “They’re all you have of Dad.”

“Yes, my love,” Vestia pressed her forehead to her son’s, closing his hands back around the tags. “If you’re ever feeling lonely or scared, just remember that your family loves you so much.”

Garrus nodded, putting the dogtags around his neck. He opened his mouth to speak when the door slammed open. The overseer snarled, “You’ve had long enough. Time to get back to your masters.”

The little turian let out an undignified wail as the batarian threw him over his shoulder and started to walk away. The last thing he saw of his mother was the sad smile that she wore so often, accompanied by a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Garrus had thought he knew what despair felt like when he had ridden the shuttles before. That was nothing compared to the chest-crushing emptiness he felt now, staring helplessly at the ship that held what was left of his family as it shrunk into the distance.

For a brief, shining moment, he had thought that Hannah and Joe could be the best things that had happened to him, finally freeing him from the ship and the overseer.

He had been an idiot. They weren’t the best things to happen to him.

No, they were definitely the _worst_ things to ever, ever happen to him.


	3. First Contact

The overseer didn’t even wait to get Garrus back to Hannah and Joe, shoving him off the shuttle in the docking bay and promptly taking off again. For a moment, Garrus considered running, heading into the woods on the mountain’s foothills, and never coming back.

Then his stomach growled, and he had to concede its point – he couldn’t take care of himself alone, and he certainly couldn’t on a foreign planet. With his luck, he’d eat something poisonous. He sighed, willing his feet into motion, and started down the dirt path into town.

Garrus eventually found his way back to the market, where Hannah and Joe were waiting for him. They were arguing rather loudly; Garrus heard “turian” thrown around quite a bit.

“He’s going to be fucking useless, Hannah!” Joe roared. “We just dropped _ten thousand_ credits on yet another kid to take care of!”

“Give him a chance! He’s a fighter, I can tell. Besides, Janie needs someone her own age around. God knows there’s not a lot of seven-year-olds here,” Hannah snapped back.

“Being a fighter doesn’t do shit when we’ve all starved because we never got the farm set up right,” Joe scowled.

“You were the one who insisted we buy a slave, _Joseph_ ,” Hannah spat her husband’s name like it was a curse word. “I tried to do as much good with buying another living thing as I could.”

“For all our sakes, he’d better be more useful than the rest of his species was in the war,” Joe – Joseph, Garrus mentally corrected – growled.

Garrus couldn’t suppress his little whimper at remembering the war that had led to the enslavement of his people. Hannah and Joseph heard the noise and stopped fighting, turning to face him.

“You’re back!” Hannah exclaimed, voice a little strangled.

Garrus nodded timidly. Hannah went on, still awkward with embarrassment, “Let’s get you to your new home.”

The walk to the house was a long and silent one; Garrus could feel the concerned glances Hannah kept tossing his way. She also kept exchanging meaningful glances with her husband.

Garrus’s new home was only a fraction the size of his old house on Palaven. It was a tiny, run-down looking building with a little shed in the yard that was leaning heavily to one side. He couldn’t see much else, but from how often the couple had mentioned a farm, he guessed that the property itself was huge, even if nothing else was.

“You’re going to mostly be doing domestic things, like cooking and all that. Maybe when you’re older you can help in the fields,” Joseph said.

“Most important right now is that you’ll be taking care of our daughter Janie when we’re out working in the fields,” Hannah added. “She’s about your age.”

Joseph led the way inside the house, calling, “Janie! Come here!”

Garrus heard a girl’s voice call back, “Yeah, Daddy?”

“I want you to meet someone,” Joseph said.

The turian was hardly in the door when the girl Joseph had been talking to caught his eye. Years later, he would still remember the first moment he saw her, even if he couldn’t explain what exactly was so striking about her.

She looked remarkably similar to her mother, freckly and slender with bright red hair and shining green eyes. Her father’s influence was there too, in her broad shoulders, crooked smile, and tan skin. Everything about her was so much more vibrant than her parents, though – her hair was redder than her mother’s, red as fire; her eyes sparkled like gemstones; and though she was small and thin, there was quiet, impressive strength and command about her.

The girl spoke, and the spell that had captivated Garrus broke. “Another alien! Cool! What’s this one called?”

“This is a turian, Janie,” Hannah said.

Janie cocked her head, curious. “I thought we didn’t like them.”

“Well…humans and turians didn’t get along. Now we do, sort of,” Joseph replied.

“Oh,” Janie shrugged, accepting it without argument.

“He’s going to be living with us and helping out,” Hannah explained awkwardly.

Joseph rolled his eyes. “No use beating around the bush. He’s a slave, Janie.”

The girl looked confused for only a moment before asking, “So, we…own him?”

Garrus didn’t like the way the three humans were talking about him as though he weren’t there, but he figured he should probably get used to it. At least they seemed kind enough; both Hannah and Janie looked somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of owning him.

“Yeah,” Joseph nodded. “Doesn’t mean you get to be mean, though.”

“I wouldn’t!” Janie looked offended by the idea.

“Good,” Hannah smiled. “He’s going to be helping take care of you while your dad and I are working to get the farm up and running.”

Janie nodded. Hannah went on, “We’ll…let you two get acquainted, I guess. There’s still some work your dad and I need to get done today.”

“Okay!” Janie replied cheerfully. As soon as her parents were out of the house, she turned back to Garrus. “So what’s your name? It’s not Turian, is it?”

It occurred to Garrus that Hannah and Joseph had never even asked him his name. He supposed they didn’t need to; they owned him now, they could call him whatever they wanted. Having Janie ask his name just added to his already-strong sense of affection, or admiration, or something, for the little human.

“No, I’m a turian, the same way you’re a human,” Garrus shook his head. “My name is Garrus.”

“Garrus,” Janie repeated. “That’s a cool name. Mine is boring.”

“I think it’s…nice,” Garrus replied lamely. “Janie.”

The girl stomped her foot childishly and snapped, “It’s _Jane_ , got it?”

“But…your parents…” Garrus stammered, nervous. The last thing he wanted to do was immediately anger the girl he was about to spend all of his time with.

Jane rolled her eyes. “They always call me that. It’s a dumb nickname and I don’t like it. I like Jane better, even though I don’t really like that. I like Shepard, but that’s my last name, so nobody calls me that.”

“Okay,” Garrus agreed weakly.

The girl cocked her head again. “Sorry. Mom and Dad say I get too…um, I think the word they use is aggressive? Or something. I didn’t mean to be mean.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to stuff like that,” Garrus shrugged. “I’m a turian. We have pretty thick skin. See?” He held up his hand, covered in its tough skin.

Jane giggled. “That was a pretty bad joke.”

“Well, yeah,” Garrus couldn’t help but agree. His jokes had always been horrible. “But we really have thick skin.”

The girl regarded him curiously and asked, a little nervously, “C-can I touch it?”

“What?” Garrus recoiled in surprise.

“You don’t have to say yes!” Jane insisted immediately. “I just…I never knew anything about aliens or space or anything before we moved here. I think it’s all really cool.”

There was something genuine in her demeanor that made Garrus want to trust her, so he nodded. “Okay. That’s fine.”

She timidly poked at his hand, recoiling with a little squeal. “It’s so rough! It feels like snake scales!”

“What’s a snake?” Garrus asked.

“Do you not have them on…wherever you come from?” Jane asked in response.

“Nope,” Garrus replied simply.

“Oh. That’s weird. Well, they’re…um…scaly animals. They look like worms,” Jane tried to explain. When Garrus stared blankly at her, she sighed. “Forget it. Anyway, what’s your planet even called?”

“Palaven,” Garrus said.

“That sounds cool, too,” Janie commented, sounding impressed. “Well, Garrus, do they have trees on Palaven, or is that just an Earth thing?”

Garrus smiled at the teasing tone in her voice – his father often had the same tone when talking to his mother. The little turian joked back, “What kind of planet doesn’t have _trees?_ ”

Jane laughed. “There’s a big tree behind the shed out back. Mom and Dad say I can’t climb it without them there, but they never want to climb it with me. You’re supposed to be taking care of me, so it’s probably okay to do if you’re there. Want to?”

“Um, not really…” Garrus managed. The ‘probably’ in Jane’s logic didn’t make him feel particularly safe, and he had no desire to get in trouble so soon.

“Well, life’s boring if you don’t go on adventures. Come on!” Jane said anyway, dashing out of the house. Garrus sighed, knowing he had to chase after her and catch up before something happened. Somehow, something told him this was far from the last time he would follow Jane Shepard into an ill-advised adventure.

But he was a good turian, so he shoved aside his misgivings and ran after her like she’d ordered.

*

As it turned out, Garrus was far better at climbing trees than Jane. Humans didn’t have claws the way turians did, giving them pretty much no way to go up except slowly climbing from branch to branch. Garrus had done his best to not laugh at Jane’s struggles – she _was_ technically his master, after all, and though she’d been kind so far, he didn’t want to risk it – but it had been difficult.

Finally, the two of them sat next to each other on the highest sturdy branch in the tree, looking out over the farm together. Garrus had guessed correctly; the Shepards’ land was enormous. Hannah and Joseph were little specks down below, working together to cut down and chop up a tree in the middle of the field.

“It’s nice up here,” Jane commented. “Everything’s so small. Makes you realize that we’re not as big as we think we are.”

Garrus nodded. “Makes me feel like I’m flying.”

Jane smiled. “I’ve always wanted to do that, be in charge of a big ship and go flying through space. Maybe we can do that someday.”

The way the girl so casually said “we,” as if they were equals, made Garrus both happy and sad. In some ways, he wanted things to be simple – a master and slave, with a clear divide. Simple things were so much easier.

But at the same time, having a friend was nice. Jane was so genuine and open, and Garrus could appreciate someone like that. Maybe, with someone like Jane in his life, living as a slave could be all right after all.

“Hey, Garrus?” Jane asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Garrus replied.

“I’m sorry,” the girl said, looking down at her feet.

“What?” Garrus asked.

“Dad said you’re a slave. That means we bought you. And you didn’t come from nowhere. You have a family too. I’m sorry you’re not with them,” Jane said.

“It’s okay,” Garrus replied, and a part of him almost believed it. “They’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll see them again someday.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, watching as the sun started to set, before Jane asked again, “Hey, Garrus?" 

“Yeah?” Garrus replied once more. 

“I don’t know if it helps, but I’m glad you’re here.”


	4. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to get up! My wonderful beta (paradox_thought16) and I had a hell of a week.

“Maybe you should let me do it,” Jane commented from her seat on the counter; Garrus was struggling with a mixing bowl next to where she sat.

“I’ve got it,” Garrus snapped. He had told her that turians used “subvocals,” or something like that, to put deeper meaning in their words. Jane couldn’t hear his subvocals, but she _could_ tell he was very annoyed.

“I’m not making fun of you!” Jane bit right back. “I want to help if you need it.”

“I can handle it,” Garrus insisted, but his tone was gentler now. “That _is_ why your parents got me.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Jane carefully not commenting on Garrus’s continued fight with both the bowl and the datapad serving as his cookbook. After a while, she had to ask, “So turians clearly don’t eat pancakes. What _do_ you eat?”

Garrus laughed. “You wouldn’t be able to eat turian food.”

Jane bristled. She knew a challenge when she heard one, and she hated when boys thought she was less than they were. “Try me.”

“No, really,” Garrus insisted. “Humans and turians are made of different stuff. You’d get sick if you tried to eat my food.”

“Oh,” Jane said simply. “So…you’re always making me food, but you can’t eat it?”

“Right,” Garrus nodded, stirring furiously at the batter in the bowl. “Your parents bought me this mushy stew I can eat for food.”

“Ew,” Jane wrinkled her nose.

“That’s how I feel about your food,” Garrus replied. Jane giggled.

They lapsed back into the already-familiar friendly silence for a while, until Garrus finally finished making Jane’s breakfast. She teased him about the horrible consistency of the pancakes until he gently lobbed one at her face, shutting her up.

“Your mom told me to do things around the house…but I don’t know what there is to do,” Garrus said abruptly, when Jane was almost done with her breakfast. He had finished his gooey paste long before she had even made a dent in her pancakes.

“I mean, clean stuff, unpack, make beds, I guess?” Jane shrugged. “You know, the usual boring stuff.”

Garrus stared at her like she’d grown another head – although, with the aliens she’d seen, Jane realized that maybe that wasn’t so strange out in space.

“Make…beds?” Garrus asked slowly. “Don’t you…already have them?”

Jane laughed. “You don’t _actually_ make beds. You just make the sheets look nice and stuff.”

Garrus let out an odd sort of noise that Jane figured was a turian snort. “Sounds easy enough. I’ll do that after I do the dishes.”

Jane could tell how badly Garrus wanted to tease her for her slow eating, but he somehow managed to sit there without comment. When she was finally done with her mountain of pancakes, he snatched her plate with a joking, “ _Finally_ ,” before he started washing their dishes.

School hadn’t been set up yet on Elysium, leaving Jane with far too much time and far too little to do with it. She decided to stick by Garrus, both for companionship and to help out the turian in his apparently bewildering new home. Despite her persistent pleading, Garrus wouldn’t let her help with any chores, so she lamely trailed after him as he finished up the dishes and moved on to making beds. Jane effectively became his shadow, always perched on counters or chairs or whatever out-of-the-way platform she could find to still spend time with him as he worked.

There was something fascinating about him, Jane found, and it wasn’t even because he was an alien. She liked being around him, and she liked that he felt comfortable enough around her to tease her back. To Jane that was the best kind of friendship, full of verbal (and occasionally even physical) sparring, instead of walking around each other on eggshells.

As Jane watched Garrus struggle with the sheets on her bed, she contemplated the words she’d used in her own thoughts.

Friendship. Friends. Not “slave” or “turian.”

Friend.

Jane smiled. Something told her that she and Garrus were going to be friends for a very long time.

*

Although Jane continued to offer help, the only chore Garrus finally allowed her to help with was choosing dinner for the night. She had nearly managed to convince him to make cake for dinner when he caught on to her excessive giggles; after much pleading he had gotten a real answer of spaghetti out of her instead.

Through a miraculous stroke of luck, Garrus had dinner on the table just before Jane’s parents walked in, tired and grouchy from their day in the field. Jane had finally gotten to do her share by showing Garrus how to set the table, then sprinting back into the kitchen to finish cooking the pasta sauce before Garrus caught her.

The pair was quiet during dinner, letting Jane’s parents talk about the day’s progress on the farm, which struck Jane was incredibly dull. Garrus seemed to pick up on her boredom, doing silly things with the weird things – he had called them mandibles – on his cheeks. Jane had done her best not to laugh, but eventually she couldn’t help it. Her father scowled at her, but she ignored him.

After dinner was done and Garrus finished the dishes, Hannah said, “Looks like it’ll be colder tonight. I’ll go dig up a moving blanket so you don’t get cold out there in the shed, Garrus.”

“Mo-om,” Jane whined, knowing full well how petulant she was being. “Can’t he sleep in here?”

“Where exactly, the couch? I’m not about to have our living room become the servant’s quarters,” Joseph scowled.

“What about my room?” Jane offered. She was an only child, so she’d never shared a room except on sleepovers. But those were fun – Garrus was her friend, so why would this be any different?

“Janie, sweetie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Hannah protested gently.

“Why?” Jane demanded, bristling.

“You seem to be forgetting very quickly that he’s a _slave_ , not a live-in playmate,” Joseph commented.

“It doesn’t mean he has to sleep in the shed!” Jane protested.

Hannah sighed. “Janie. Your father is right.”

“ _Please_ , Mom,” Jane insisted, blinking back earnest tears. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so dead-set on this, but now that she’d picked this battle she was going to fight it.

“Give me one good reason and I’ll think about it,” Hannah replied. Joseph sighed.

“If I need anything in the middle of the night, he can get it instead of you!” Jane replied lamely. “You know I have a hard time sleeping all night.”

Joseph rolled his eyes, but Hannah bit her lip in thought. After a long pause she said, “Okay, fine. But I better not hear you two talking or anything in the middle of the night. This is _not_ a sleepover." 

Jane nodded solemnly, relieved. “Okay, I promise.”

She noticed Garrus giving her an odd look, but it was quickly replaced with a tired one when Joseph said, “Hey, Garrus. Load up the farm cart with some seed bags, would you? We almost ran out today, and we have a lot left to plant tomorrow.”

Garrus nodded silently and headed outside to the shoddy garage Joseph had thrown up the first week the family lived on the farm. Jane watched him go, feeling odd. Garrus looked so tired and sad that she couldn’t help but feel melancholy too, even if there was no particular reason for her to be upset.

She started to head outside, prompting Hannah to demand, “Where are you going?”

“I just want to go look at the stars for a while,” Jane replied, not entirely untruthfully. “I’ll be back in in a little bit. I won’t go far.”

Her mother relaxed back against the couch. “Okay. Be careful.”

Jane nodded, going outside. Garrus was hard at work, not even noticing the door open and close. She felt oddly guilty about his random new chore, so she left him to work in peace.

Instead, Jane found herself drawn to the tree they’d climbed together the day before. She didn’t dare climb as high without him there, but she managed to get halfway up, looking out over the farm. Everything was dark and peaceful, except for the little turian struggling between shed and garage with heavy bags of seed.

Jane’s stomach turned at seeing him struggle so much. Why did she care so much? He’d been bought for that exact purpose, she reminded herself. If he wasn’t doing this, he’d be stuck on a slave ship, even more miserable than he was now. This was definitely better for him.

The twisting knot in Jane’s stomach didn’t buy her feeble attempt to convince herself not to feel guilty.

Jane sat there for a long time watching Garrus work and fighting the urge from every bone in her body to go help. She couldn’t do anything now, she knew, or her parents would get angry with both her and Garrus. But she also knew that when she was a grown-up and had a say in things, she was never going to stand by and watch anybody suffer again.

Eventually the chill in the air got to be too much – Jane reluctantly climbed down and went back inside. It was late now, probably well past her bedtime, so she started to clean up for bed.

When she opened the door from her bathroom to her bedroom, she found Garrus already there, sitting on the floor. He looked truly exhausted now, blankly staring into space. The turian had gathered up a couple cushions and a blanket Jane had lying on the floor, pushing them into a little nest in the corner of the room.

“You okay?” Jane asked, immediately realizing it was a dumb question.

“Tired,” was Garrus’s only response.

“Do you need anything?” Jane went on, seeing the sad little pile of pillows that was going to serve as his bed.

“No, I’m okay. Well, maybe another pillow or something,” Garrus replied dully.

Inspiration struck Jane. “Take my bed.”

“What?” Garrus asked, startled out of his near-catatonic state.

“I didn’t do anything today. You did a lot. You can sleep in my bed. It’ll be a lot more comfortable for you than…this,” Jane gestured at the pile.

“…no, it’s okay,” Garrus protested.

“I insist,” Jane persisted. “Please, Garrus.”

“O-okay,” Garrus nodded. Jane went over and pushed the pillows into a more comfortable arrangement for herself, so Garrus awkwardly turned off the light and climbed into her bed. “Th-thanks, Jane.”

“It’s no big deal,” Jane shrugged, pulling the blanket over herself.

“Not to you,” was Garrus’s simple response.

The two were quiet for a moment before Garrus asked, “You didn’t have to do this…any of this. Why did you?”

“Because friends stick up for each other. That’s what they’re for,” Jane replied, turning over in the darkness to face the dark shape that was her bed.

“Friends,” Garrus repeated, sounding a little awed.

Silence fell over the room again. Jane was almost asleep when Garrus called quietly, “Hey, Jane?”

“Yeah?” she mumbled.

“I’m starting to be glad I’m here, too,” Garrus said.

Garrus couldn’t see it, but Jane fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	5. Birthday Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY this has taken so long! I'm on spring break with my beta right now, so hopefully we can get a few chapters out while we don't have to worry about school.

“Garrus, wake up!” Jane exclaimed, pushing at Garrus’s shoulder.

The turian grumbled something sleepily, turning over and away from Jane. She nudged him again, pushing him towards the edge of the bed.

Over the course of the three years Garrus had lived with the Shepards, Jane had gotten tired of alternating who slept on the bed and who got the pile of pillows. Instead, she had proposed they just share her overlarge bed. Garrus had protested at first, but eventually the desire to sleep on literally anything softer than the floor had won out.

“ _What?_ ” Garrus snapped, still refusing to open his eyes.

“It’s my birthday!” Jane practically yelled. “Let’s go do something fun!”

Garrus finally opened his eyes, regarding Jane curiously. “You’ve never been this excited for a birthday before.”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Jane rolled her eyes. “I’m _ten!_ Double digits! It’s a big deal!”

Garrus sighed, starting to climb out of bed. “What do you want to do?”

“Hmm,” Jane thought. She hadn’t gotten this far – she had only been focused on getting Garrus up. “Maybe Mom and Dad will give me money for the arcade?"

Garrus nodded, pulling his nicest shirt out of one the two drawers he’d claimed in Jane’s dresser. Jane ducked into her bathroom while he got dressed, part of their well-worn routine. She brushed her messy hair and her teeth before heading back into her room, getting changed while Garrus headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Jane’s parents were already up, drinking their morning coffee as they read the news on their datapads. Joseph saw Jane bounce out of her room and exclaimed, “There’s our little birthday girl!” before he swept her into a big hug.

Jane giggled, resisting her father’s nuzzles against her cheek. “ _Dad_ , I’m not little anymore! I’m ten now!”

“A big milestone indeed,” Hannah agreed with mock solemnity, hugging Jane as soon as Joseph set her down. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Can I open presents?” Jane asked.

“Let’s save that for this evening. Your grandparents are coming for dinner, all the way from Earth!” Hannah said.

Joseph saw the disappointment fall across Jane’s face, so he added, “But here, Janie. I’ll give you a hundred credits so you can go buy some nice things for yourself in town. That way, you can make sure you really like the first presents you get today.”

“Joseph!” Hannah exclaimed, shooting him a look.

“What?” Joseph laughed. “Ten credits for each year she’s been around. A hundred credits. Fair to me.”

“Just don’t spend it in one place, okay, Janie?” Hannah added sternly.

“Okay, mom,” Jane nodded, staring in awe at the credit chit her father handed her. She’d never held this much money in her life! All the cool things she could spend it on…clothes and maybe a play pistol and candy and…

She was broken out of her thoughts by Garrus setting breakfast down on the table. Jane couldn’t help but notice that Garrus had made French toast – her favorite breakfast food – and organized the food on her plate to look like a little birthday cake. She beamed at him across the table, earning a small smile in response.

*

Jane walked down General Street with Garrus at her side. It was much quieter than the main road and had better shops, in Jane’s opinion.

“So what are you gonna get?” Garrus asked.

“I don’t know,” Jane replied, looking down at her credit chit again. “It’s a lot of money. I could buy a whole bunch of things.”

“The store with that toy pistol you wanted is right up there,” Garrus nodded towards the bright red sign down the street. “You should have enough money with that, plus some extra.”

“Yeah,” Jane agreed, a little quietly. She _had_ been looking at that pistol for a long time, but for whatever reason she wasn’t feeling it was quite right today. Garrus didn’t seem to pick up on her hesitation, leading the way down the street; Jane trotted to catch up with him.

“Well, there it is,” Garrus commented, when they reached the store window. The pistol had been lovingly handmade, looking almost exactly like the standard-issue Alliance pistols. Instead of thermal clips, Jane knew, it fired airsoft rounds in super-realistic clips. She had long played make-believe with Garrus, as well as cops and robbers, war, tag, and all kinds of other games – but they would be more exciting with a toy pistol than the imaginary ones they had been using.

Jane’s enthusiasm for her impending purchase came back as she stared at it through the shop window. Then Garrus’s reflection caught her eye. He was staring at it with something like…sadness?

Her stomach churned. What about it was making him upset? She knew it looked like a gun that would’ve belonged to the soldier who’d killed his father – he had told her last summer about his family, his sick mother and baby sister and war hero father. But he had assured her every time they came to look at the pistol through the window that it didn’t bother him.

Then it hit her. If the chit she held was far more money than she’d ever had…it was certainly _way_ more money than Garrus had ever had. What would that chit mean to him? Jane looked down at it again and sighed. Her father had once told her that even though birthdays were a day to do extra special things for the person whose birthday it was, the birthday person should do extra nice things for others, too. It was a day about you, but it was also a day to celebrate everything you’d accomplished and done so far.

“You okay?” Garrus asked, breaking Jane from her thoughts. “You’ve been staring into space for like, five minutes.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jane nodded. “I don’t really want the pistol. We’ve been good at make-believe without it; it seems like a waste of money. Come on.”

Garrus stood staring at her in shock as she headed into the candy store across the street; it took him a moment to recover and follow. By the time he’d caught up, Jane was handing the cashier a king-size chocolate bar and the credit chit.

The clerk looked at Jane in surprise for a moment before handing her the chit with the remaining money and the candy bar. Jane beamed, “Thank you!” before heading outside, Garrus trailing behind.

When the two were outside, Jane tore the wrapper off of the top of her candy bar and bit into it, savoring the sweet chocolate imported all the way from Earth. They were quiet a moment before Jane handed the credit chit to Garrus.

“Do you want me to carry this for you?” Garrus asked, confused.

“No,” Jane shook her head, trying to enunciate around her giant mouthful of chocolate. “I don’t want the rest of it. That’s for you.”

Garrus looked up at her, puzzled; Jane could practically hear the gears in his hear whirring. There was a long silence before Garrus managed, “What?”

“You heard me,” Jane scowled. “I already have birthday presents. I don’t need anything else, and I don’t want anything else. Besides. You deserve something nice. So that’s for you, so you can buy stuff too.”

The gratitude in Garrus’s eyes made Jane feel almost ashamed. He was her friend. She should have done this a long time ago, done something as kind for him as he always did for her. She thought of his gesture this morning, her French toast ‘birthday cake,’ and nearly started to cry before Garrus pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear, voice a little shaky. They held their hug as long as they could without attracting looks before pulling apart.

Jane roughly wiped her leaking tears away and managed to make her voice sound strong as she said, “There’s a place on Main Street that sells quarian food. You guys are made of the same stuff, right? You could buy some of that and have some nicer food than your mush.”

Garrus nodded, mandibles moving into a smile. “Sounds like a great idea. I didn’t realize you were supposed to _give_ presents on your birthday, but thanks, Jane.”

Jane smiled back, feeling her heart skip a beat at the pure joy in Garrus’s eyes.

*

“We were about to send out a search party!” Hannah teased as Jane and Garrus walked back into the house close to dusk. They’d hidden Garrus’s veritable hoard of food in the storage shed, since Garrus was the only one who ever went in there anymore. “Did you buy anything nice?”

“A candy bar,” Jane replied honestly, holding up the now-empty wrapper.

“For a hundred credits?” Joseph growled, annoyed. “Was it made of gold?”

“No,” Jane mumbled. She knew she couldn’t tell her parents about giving the money to Garrus; they would take his food away and they’d both get in trouble. It only took her a moment to lie, “We…we went to the arcade afterwards.”

“Janie!” Hannah scolded. “You need to be more responsible with your money. Your dad gave you that to spend on nice things, not waste it all on games.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane replied, staring at her feet and doing her best impression of guilt. She was in fact rather pleased with herself, both for showing Garrus the kind of kindness he deserved _and_ for hiding it so well, but if she wasn’t careful the second half of that was going to get blown. “I won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t, since you won’t be getting that kind of money again,” Joseph scowled. “You should’ve known better.”

Jane nodded silently. Hannah sighed. “It’s your birthday, so you get a pass for tonight. But tomorrow morning, you’re in a lot of trouble, young lady.”

Jane nodded again. Hannah lightened the mood with the cheerful announcement of Jane’s grandparent’s imminent arrival and the promise of cake and presents. Joseph relaxed, but the disappointed, angry look remained in his eyes for the rest of the night. Jane struggled to keep her smugness out of her expression, but the sting of being punished the next day certainly helped.

She didn’t notice, in her blur of relatives and cake and presents, how Garrus’s expression didn’t change at all the whole night – immense gratitude and more than a little bit of sadness and guilt mingled in his eyes.


	6. TLC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We live! Sorry, yet again, that this has taken so long, yet again. Real life hit me and my lovely beta really damn hard in the past few weeks. We're recovering now, so the pace'll pick back up. Never fear - this will get fully published!

Garrus scrubbed at the dishes from lunch, humming along idly to the music he was playing from Jane’s old datapad. It was early afternoon with little to do – the house was clean, Hannah and Joseph were out in the fields working and eating the lunch Garrus had brought them, and Jane wouldn’t be back from school for a few more hours.

Well, little to do wasn’t right. He had to repaint the exterior of the house, a chore he had been dreading for days, as large turian hands didn’t work well with the small-handled paintbrushes the Shepards owned.

When the dishes were dried and put away, Garrus conceded defeat, grabbing the paintbrushes, paint cans, and old creaky ladder from the storage shed. He had barely set everything up and started painting when he heard the familiar yell of, “ _Garrus!_ ”

Or at least, he thought he had. He looked around, confused, but Hannah and Joseph were nowhere to be found. None of their neighbors knew his name, even though he’d lived with the Shepards for close to nine years now, preferring the apparently easier to remember “Slave” or “Turian,” so that wasn’t it.

He shrugged, chuckling darkly to himself for being so desperate for company he was hearing his name on the wind.

Then he heard it again.

This time, he tossed down the paintbrush, actually going to investigate. Once was a fluke, but twice was something worth checking out. No one was around the house or in the shed, so he started heading down the street in the direction of the noise, towards town.

He was in front of the next-door neighbor’s house when he heard his name a third time and finally found the source.

“Jane?” he couldn’t help but ask. He knew she skipped school from time to time, but she always told him first. What was going on?

“Garrus!” she cried. Something was wrong with her voice – _pain?_

Then his senses caught up to the rest of his brain. She was collapsed on the ground, struggling to pull herself along the dirt road. Jane was covered in dirt and bruises and…was that blood?

“Jane?” Garrus asked, running over to her. She looked even worse up close, her hair matted and even more bruises covering her body than he’d noticed. “Jane, what happened?”

She started to explain but started crying. Garrus felt his stomach twist violently. Jane had never cried, not in his presence. Not when she broke her ankle, not when her grandfather died…never. In almost a decade with her, he’d never seen so much as a misty eye, and now she was sobbing. Something was wrong, more than wrong.

Garrus looked around, desperate for help, but no one was out and about. He took a breath, steeling himself. He could – he _would_ – take care of Jane. He’d see her through this, whatever this was.

“Let’s get you home. I’ll clean you up,” he promised, picking her up gently.

Jane let out a horrible shriek of pain, nearly causing Garrus to drop her. She managed to choke out through her tears, “Just…go. I’ll…be okay.”

He moved as fast as he knew he could without hurting her more, practically kicking open the front door to the Shepards’ house. It only took him a moment to draw Jane a warm bath to soothe her pain, gently lower her into it, and grab the medi-gel they had in the linen closet.

Jane was still in a crumpled heap when he came back, her torn, dirty clothes still on. She whimpered, “Garrus…I don’t think I can get these off.”

“Do…you need to?” Garrus squeaked, voice tight with embarrassment. He was glad she was too out of it to notice the blue flush in his neck.

Jane simply nodded, too tired to explain. Garrus swallowed, ignoring the renewed twisting in his stomach as he tried to unbutton Jane’s shirt with overlarge, clumsy hands.

He made a point to stare at the wall, the ceiling, anything but Jane as he helped her undress. When he picked up her clothes to toss them in the laundry basket, he squeezed his eyes shut. After a long silence, Jane said weakly, “Garrus, you’re gonna have to look. I don’t think I can get medi-gel on all this by myself.”

Vowing to find some way, _any_ way, to erase his memory, Garrus opened his eyes. He nearly vomited.

Jane’s entire body looked like the black-and-blue camouflage the Alliance loved so much, and she had enough scrapes and cuts that the water was slowly turning red with blood. There was a huge gush of blood from her hip, rivaling her impressive bloody nose.

“Jane…” he whispered. “What happened?”

Jane grimaced as he picked up the washcloth he had grabbed and started gently cleaning the dirt and blood off of her. She was quiet for a long time before explaining, “Derek asked me to go on a date with him. I said no.”

Garrus waited for a moment, scrubbing at the dirt and grass stains on her elbow, before he realized there was no more of an explanation. He demanded, “So…?”

“So he wasn’t happy about it,” Jane replied tiredly. “He had brought me to the arboretum so he could ask me privately. Since it was so private, he beat me up since he knew there was no one around to stop him.”

“Didn’t…didn’t you fight back?” Garrus persisted, blood burning with anger.

“I tried!” Jane snapped, a flicker of her usual spirit coming back before quickly fading. “I’m no good in a fight. I just tried to keep myself from getting hurt.”

Garrus felt too ill and angry to tease her. “So…do you know what your injuries are?”

“Lots of bruises. Broken nose. I think he bruised my breastbone and a rib or two, but I don’t know for sure,” Jane replied, her voice weak and dull. “I twisted my ankle running away from him; that’s why I couldn’t walk.”

“Jane?” Garrus asked urgently. “Stay with me, okay?”

“I’m…not going anywhere,” Jane mumbled, eyes drooping.

Garrus pressed a hand to her wrist.

_Fuck_.

Her pulse was fast and shallow, and her skin was cold despite the hot water. He was no doctor, but he knew she was quickly slipping into shock.

Garrus decided to forgo cleaning off all the grime, instead opening the medi-gel and smearing it on as many injuries as he could find – her bruises, her broken nose, her sides in the feeble hope that it would help any bruised ribs. He took a breath, grabbed more gel, and applied it to her sternum, feeling himself blush with embarrassment again.

He intended to do the quickest scan of her chest he could – unless there was some horribly injury there, he was going to let Jane take care of that herself. His intentions were quickly overcome by more than a little curiosity. So _this_ was what human males found attractive.

Garrus wasn’t sure he really saw why, but the faster pace of his heart proved his thoughts to be lying.

“Like what you see, Garrus?” Jane teased sleepily, her razor-sharp wit _somehow_ able to cut through the haze of shock.

The turian blushed a bright blue, immediately looking anywhere else but his friend. _Fuck._

Jane laughed, wincing immediately from the pain it caused. She mumbled, sobered, “Yeah, Derek thought he would too – he even said he only asked me out because he thought I was hot.”

The name brought Garrus’s anger back. “Tell me what he looks like.”

“Why?” Jane demanded, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Just tell me,” Garrus snapped back. Jane’s bruises were fading slightly, filling him relief, but the space his worry had been was quickly being taken up by rage.

“Tell me why,” Jane insisted.

“Because I am going to make him pay for this,” Garrus hissed.

“No!” Jane exclaimed forcefully.

“Why not?” Garrus demanded.

“You’re a _slave_ , Garrus!” Jane yelled, tears coming back into her eyes. “He’s the mayor’s son! If you touch him, they’ll kill you!

“So, what?” Garrus snarled. “Should I just let him get away with this?”

“I didn’t say that!” Jane spat right back.

Part of Garrus, the logical part, hated that he was yelling at Jane. She was his only friend in the world, someone he’d die or kill for. But he was so angry she’d been hurt…he had to let out his anger at Derek _somehow_.

The two stared at each other in angry silence before Jane went on, “Teach me how to fight.”

This caught Garrus off-guard. “What?”

“You can’t make Derek pay for this. They’d kill you. But I can,” Jane replied.

“You can’t fight,” Garrus retorted. “Or we wouldn’t _be_ in this situation.”

“You can,” Jane said, grabbing his hand. There was urgency in her voice. “You can teach me.”

“Jane…” Garrus sighed.

“I know turians teach their children how to fight from a young age,” Jane persisted, a fierce gleam in her blackened eyes. “Teach me.”

“Jane, I was five when I was caught by slavers. I had hardly learned anything. My mother was too sick to teach me anything and my father was too _dead_ ,” Garrus replied tiredly.

“But you know _something_ ,” Jane insisted.

“Yes,” Garrus confirmed reluctantly.

“Teach me. Teach me, and I’ll go beat the shit out of Derek. For both of us,” Jane said, tightening her grip on Garrus’s hand. He looked at her, saw the fierce intensity in her eyes, and wondered how he had ever thought he could deny anything from Jane when she wanted it.

Finally, he nodded. “I won’t go easy on you. If I can’t fight Derek for you, I’m going to make sure you win.”

Her eyes glinted and something resembling a smirk graced her lips. “Good.”

*

It took a long time and a short stint in the hospital before Jane’s injuries finished healing. She was adamant that her parents not find out what happened, so instead Garrus told the Shepards that Jane had taken a tumble off the ladder while helping him paint the house. He viewed it as protecting Derek, a thought that made him sick, but if it was what Jane wanted, it was what she was going to get.

When Garrus was satisfied she was healed enough to start training, they started their lessons after dinner each night, out in the fields. Jane remained set on secrecy, so Garrus did his best to hide their lessons from her parents.

Jane was a remarkably fast learner. She was strong from summers spent in the fields and marvelously quick-witted, a combination that left Garrus both impressed and intimidated.

He spent about a month teaching her everything he knew and then some, ending each of their nightly sessions with a daunting routine of push-ups, pull-ups, squats, crunches, and all the other bizarre human workouts he had seen on television. Garrus knew he was pushing Jane – he was confident that even the Alliance’s basic training was more forgiving than his – but she never once complained, fighting her way through each day.

There was something Garrus admired about Jane’s tireless training. It would be so much easier for her to simply let Garrus, who was far larger and stronger than her, to handle the Derek Problem, as he had begun calling it. But her heart was too big, pushing her down the hard, unforgiving road less traveled to protect Garrus. And her pride, spirit, and courage were all too strong to let her complain or ease up. Jane had a warrior’s heart, and Garrus loved that about her. They were kindred spirits – they may be human and turian, but they were both proud, and they were both soldiers at heart.

“You gonna start challenging me soon?” Jane demanded, breaking Garrus out of his thoughts. “Pull-ups from the tree don’t really count.”

Garrus laughed at the brash, no-bullshit attitude that had gotten stronger as Jane had. “That’s all I’ve got for you. I think you’re ready to go kick Derek’s ass.”

Jane smirked. “I’ve been waiting a goddamn month to hear that.”

She grabbed the towel Garrus had been holding, wiping the sweat from her brow and neck as she started to head inside.

Something mischievous in Garrus’ head made him decide to give her one last test; he lunged forward and grabbed her wrist.

Everything went black.

When he came to, he was flat on his back on the ground, Jane’s foot on his neck and her hands still around his wrist. She looked startled at what she’d done, and a little bit guilty, although she snarled, “What the fuck was that?”

“A test,” Garrus replied woozily. “You passed.”

Jane laughed, helping him back up. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’ll never deny it,” Garrus shrugged, rubbing at his sore carapace.

“Here, head inside,” Jane playfully socked his shoulder. “I’ll get us some ice cream. Good for wounded pride.”

“Can it,” Garrus growled good-naturedly.

Jane laughed again, heading into the storage shed to grab some of Garrus’s ice cream, or what passed as the quarian equivalent of it. Garrus watched her go with a small smile – he knew now that he’d never have to worry about Jane’s ability to defend herself again.

As he headed inside per Jane’s “orders,” he realized that knowing Jane was safe had lifted an incredible weight off his shoulders, one he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying.


	7. Goodbye

“Packed enough crap?” Garrus teased, watching Jane fold up an old drawing of the two of them and carefully stow it in her bulging duffel bag.

“Maybe I just want a reminder of the good old days and all the ugly that came with it,” Jane replied. Garrus laughed.

“You should take practical stuff, Jane,” he said, unable to come up with a good retort. “Not sentimental stuff.”

“I already have my practical stuff,” Jane scowled. “They’re giving me all my uniform parts and it’s not like I’ll get a chance to wear anything else.”

They fell into their familiar silence, but this time it felt…different. Garrus couldn’t count the number of times he and Jane had sat silently together, reading or doing chores or anything under the sun, but this time felt uncomfortable and uneasy.

After a long time Jane asked lightly, still shoving things in her bag, “You okay?”

Garrus sighed. “I don’t want you to go.”

Jane turned towards him, one corner of her mouth quirked up in a teasing smile. “Aww, you _do_ like me.”

“You’re the only friend I’ve got, Jane,” Garrus managed, feeling like he had a vice around his chest. “I…don’t have anybody else.”

Jane stopped packing, heading over to him and pulling him into a hug. He’d never understood why this was how humans preferred to show affection, but he’d grown fond of Jane’s hugs over the years.

“I’m not leaving,” Jane vowed, voice muffled a little by Garrus’s shirt. “I’m just going to be in the navy long enough to get Mom and Dad back on their feet. Then I’m getting the fuck out. You know me. I’m not a soldier.”

Garrus didn’t have the heart to argue that she _was_ a soldier at heart, and the damn finest one he’d ever seen at that. He simply mumbled back into her hair, “Just come back, okay?”

Jane laughed. “I’m going to basic, Garrus, not war. Calm down. I’ll be back in six months. Hey, you’ll be sixteen when I get back. We’ll go out to celebrate.”

Garrus nodded and Jane pulled away. She went on, “I think I’ve got everything I need. Should probably head to the shuttle soon.”

“I can carry your stuff to the docking bay for you. Your bag’s as big as you are,” Garrus said, unwilling to admit he simply wanted to stay with Jane for as long as he could.

Jane’s lips quirked back into that smirk-smile, and she took a breath as if to call him on his lie, but she stopped and instead said, “Sounds good. Let’s go – Mom and Dad are probably going to take forever saying goodbye.”

Garrus picked up Jane’s bag, which was even heavier than it looked, and followed her into the living room. Hannah and Joseph were awkwardly waiting, trying to act as normal as they could despite Hannah already being in tears.

“Mom, we talked about this,” Jane sighed, seeing her mother’s red and puffy eyes. “I’ll be back in six months for shore leave.”

“But then you’ll get sent off on a ship to god knows where!” Hannah practically wailed. She ran over and threw her arms around her daughter.

“The Alliance is pretty safe, Mom, all things considered,” Jane assured her, giving Garrus a miserable look over her mother’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

Hannah pulled away, cupping Jane’s face in her hands. “You just barely turned eighteen, Jane. You shouldn’t be leaving so soon.”

“We need the money,” Jane insisted. “This is the best way to get it. I can make some money, and you’ll still have Garrus around to help out. And once you’re on your feet again I can move out and you won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Hannah burst into loud sobs; Garrus offered a very exasperated Jane a sympathetic smile. Joseph put his arms around his wife’s shoulders and said, “We’re proud of you, kid. It takes a lot of guts to go off and join the military to help your family out.”

Jane shrugged. “You only get one family, right?”

Garrus glanced at the clock and quietly cut in, “Jane, we need to get going.”

The girl – woman, Garrus corrected mentally – nodded once. “C’mon, Mom. One more hug, for the road.”

Jane then gave her father a short, tight hug before she was enveloped in her mother’s arms for what seemed like forever. Garrus sighed, remembering how small he was the last time he had gotten a show of affection from his own mother. Someday he’d see her again, the same way he’d see Jane again in six months. He knew it.

Once Hannah finally released Jane, Garrus shouldered his friend’s bag and the two headed down the familiar road to the city. It was a silent walk, this time _very_ different from their comfortable silences. This one was heavy and tense and more than a little fearful.

“Hey, Garrus?” Jane asked when they were on the outskirts of town.

“Yeah?” Garrus replied, shifting her bag.

“I’m…scared,” Jane admitted, not meeting his eyes. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I wanted to go to art school. And here I am…going to basic.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” Garrus assured her. When she shot him a disbelieving look, he vowed, “Honestly. Jane, you’re the bravest and smartest and most genuine human I know. I’ll deny it if you ever reference this conversation, but I believe that with all my heart.”

Jane smiled, finally. “Thanks, Garrus.”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” he replied, eliciting a laugh from her.

The silence felt less foreboding as they finished their trek to the docking bay, but Garrus could still sense the unease tearing at Jane. He felt the same unease twisting his own stomach into knots.

Finally, they arrived; Garrus let Jane’s overlarge bag slide to the ground as they stood outside the bay. Jane looked up at the building, looking pensive, before she turned back to Garrus. “Oh. I can’t believe I almost forgot. I got something for you.”

“It’s four months early for a birthday present,” Garrus teased despite the rush of affection he felt for Jane.

She opened her bag and pulled out something crudely wrapped in brown paper. When Garrus gave her a skeptical look, she shrugged and said, “I said I wanted to go to art school, not present-wrapping school. Go on, open it.”

Garrus obeyed, peeling away the layers of paper between him and this mysterious gift Jane had gotten. When he finally reached the center, all he could say was…

“What _is_ this?”

Jane scowled. “It’s a turian visor. C-Sec agents and stuff use them. Thought you might like it, that’s all.”

Garrus glanced down at it, wondering how he hadn’t recognized it before – his father had worn one practically identical to this. He felt his heart swelling with affection yet again for the woman who’d already given him so many reasons to love her. Finally he managed, “Thank you, Jane. I don’t know how you found this, but…it makes me feel like a turian. A real turian.”

Jane smiled. “I spent hours in some of the scrap shops on the other side of the planet – remember when I was gone the whole week of spring break? I saw this one and knew you had to have it.”

“How’d you know?” Garrus asked, turning it over again in his hands. It felt like getting a part of his people back, somehow. “My father wore one just like this.”

Now Jane’s smile was a smirk. “Must’ve been a lucky guess. The previous owner inscribed something on it. Take a look.”

It took Garrus a moment to find it, but sure enough he found two short words carved into the metal. Not words…names.

_Garrus. Solana_.

Garrus nearly dropped the visor. “This…”

“That _is_ your father’s. That’s how I knew,” Jane replied, watching Garrus put the visor on. “I booted it up to make sure it worked, and I saw a picture of a female turian in one corner of the display – must be your mom, I assume. Your dad kept all three of you with him while he was off fighting for you.”

The display booted up and sure enough, Garrus saw an old picture of his mother among the various readouts and identifications. Overwhelmed with emotions he’d locked up for years, he pulled Jane into a rib-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” he barely managed to whisper in her ear. “You…don’t know how much this means to me.”

Jane simply smiled into his shoulder. “It looks great on you. It looks…right.”

He finally released her from the hug, pressing his forehead to hers before letting her go. Garrus desperately wished he had thought of anything to give to her as a farewell present – not farewell, just _good luck_ – but he had been so focused on ignoring her impending departure that he hadn’t.

Then it hit him. He reached inside his shirt, pulling out the dogtags he’d worn for so many years, taking them off, and pressing them into Jane’s tiny hands. She looked at them in bewilderment. “What’re these?”

“These were my father’s, too,” Garrus explained. “His dogtags. They gave them to my mother after he died, and she gave them to me when your parents bought me.”

She recoiled, nearly dropping the tags. “Garrus, I can’t accept these. They’re all you have of him.”

“I’ve got this now,” Garrus reminded her, tapping his visor. “I want you to have these. My father was a great soldier and a hero. With any luck, you’ll be just like him.”

Jane’s eyes watered as Garrus gently closed her fingers around the tags. After a moment she put them on, vowing shakily, “I’ll do both of you proud.”

Garrus smiled. “I want those back when you get back, you hear? Once you’re out and about in space I don’t think you’ll need any luck to start kicking ass and taking names.”

This dragged a weak laugh out of Jane. “I’ll try not to lose them.”

Garrus was unable to come up with a retort, too distracted by the suddenly-renewed twisting in his stomach. He had never been good at goodbyes, and saying them to his best friend didn’t make them easier.

Jane threw her arms around him, catching him off guard before he fiercely hugged her back. She said into his shirt, voice heavily muffled, “I’m gonna miss you, big guy.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Jane,” Garrus managed. “I’m an ugly crier.”

“I’m being serious!” Jane snapped. She quieted suddenly. “You’re the only friend I’ve ever really had. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“Good thing we won’t have to find out,” Garrus replied soothingly. “I’ll be right here when you get back. It’s only six months. I’ll write letters.”

“I can’t read mail in basic,” Jane said.

“I’ll write anyway,” Garrus said, rubbing Jane’s back in the way he’d seen Hannah comfort her before. “It’ll be like you never left.”

“Make sure Mom and Dad take care of themselves while I’m gone,” Jane instructed, pulling out of their hug. Garrus nodded silently and Jane went on, “And take care of yourself, too.”

“I’ll do my best,” Garrus replied, throat tight. “Let’s get you on that shuttle. Don’t want you to miss it.”

Jane nodded, hoisting her bag up, and setting her shoulders. She managed, voice thin, “Goodbye, Garrus." 

“Goodbye, Jane,” Garrus smiled weakly. He watched her stride purposefully towards the docking bay. It wasn’t long before the shuttle took off, taking the person Garrus loved most in the world with it.

He stood watching the sky for a long time after the shuttle had left eyeshot, a small part of him hoping Jane would change her mind and come back, but knowing she would never back away from a commitment.

It was nearly sundown when he finally tore himself away, heading back to the farm. The walk seemed so much longer and sadder alone; Garrus had to hum old tunes to himself to keep from thinking too much about Jane’s absence from his side.

More present, though, was his fear of Jane’s absence for far longer than six months. He didn’t know where this fear came from or even how it would come to pass, but he did know one thing. 

Their goodbye had been ominously final.


	8. Cadet Shepard

Jane thanked her lucky stars that Garrus had pushed her so hard when she wanted to learn how to fight. Her first day of basic was brutal, far worse than she could’ve imagined. Drills, PT, obstacle courses, shooting lessons, more PT, more drills…by the time Jane crawled into her bunk at the end of the day she hurt in places she didn’t even know she had.

Despite her pain and exhaustion, Jane tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She’d never been good at adapting to new places – part of the reason she had never wanted to join the military.

All of a sudden a silly, almost childish idea struck her as to how she could feel more at home. She rolled over, pulling her carefully folded childhood picture and a roll of tape out of her bag. Jane smiled as she unfolded the ten-year-old drawing of her and Garrus, sitting up in their favorite tree together.

She taped it to the wall beside her bunk, stashing the tape away and rolling over to face the wall. In the darkness, she couldn’t see the picture, but somehow it did indeed make her feel more at home. The other cadets would probably tease her about it, but she didn’t care.

“I miss you, big guy,” Jane sighed in the direction of the picture. “Wish you were here. You’d hate it, though. Everybody’s got sticks up their ass.”

She laughed a little. “Then again, so do you. What was I thinking?”

_Dear Cadet Shepard,_

_That_ is _the right title, right? I don’t want any of your superiors to read this and pitch a fit because I messed that up. I don’t even know why I’m asking; you won’t get to read this until you’re home._

_I’m no good at writing letters, but I’m going to do my best. I already miss you like hell. Things just aren’t the same here without you. When you were here…well, it didn’t feel like so much like I was a slave. Now it sure as hell does._

_Your mom stopped crying eventually. Still talks about you all the time, sometimes like you’re still here. Your dad won’t admit it, but I think he misses you too._

_Damn, it’s gonna be a long six months. You’ve been gone a week and we’re all already a bunch of wrecks. Well, if you can tough it through basic, we can tough it through too. But you can be sure you’ll be greeted with a party when you’re back._

_Counting down the days ‘til you get back. Number seems way too big._

_Garrus_

 

Hand-to-hand combat training was Jane’s favorite part of basic. She had no idea how to shoot a gun or develop good strategies, but her reluctant turian teacher had taught her well. Everyone had underestimated her due to her height and slim build, but knocking the biggest, burliest cadet out cold on the first day of sparring had fixed that.

Jane wasn’t quite sure what the other cadets thought of her. Clearly, they respected her, but she didn’t really get the impression that they _liked_ her. She knew she’d have to find a way to fix that. Maybe being an actual officer on a ship and not in the fiercely competitive setting of basic training would help.

At least her commanding officers seemed to be impressed. So many of the other recruits were bigger or stronger than Jane, but she knew she had more fight in her than anyone. She hadn’t given up everything she’d wanted to do and left behind her best friend in the galaxy to get shown up. If she was going to join the Alliance, no matter how much she wanted to do anything else, she was going to damn well be the best.

 

_Dear Cadet Shepard,_

_I can’t believe it’s been a month since you left. It feels so much longer. Remember how I said we were all wrecks in my last letter? Well, it’s worse now. Things haven’t been too hot on Elysium – pests in the crops, a little drought, some political squabbling, all kinds of minor catastrophes. The mayor and assistant mayor are so busy fighting for power that they haven’t done anything about the gangs that are cropping up. Bastards stole a lot of stuff from the farm._

_Sorry, you don’t want to hear about all this crap. You’re busy and stressed enough, I’m sure. I hope you’re holding up well, and that they’re not beating you up too much. I’m sure you’re doing fine. Let me guess – first in your class? Top five, at least. Maybe it was a good thing you got in that fight with Derek back in the day. Knowing how to fight must’ve given you a leg up, and living with so many alien species couldn’t have hurt either._

_Now I’m just rambling. Sorry, Jane. It’s hard to talk to you without…you know, talking to you. I must sound like an idiot, not that that’s anything new._

_Five months till you come back. That number’s still too damn big._

_Garrus_

 

The week they spent camping out in the field was the worst by far. Jane was no stranger to being outside, dirty and muddy and tired. She _was_ a stranger to going an entire week without a shower or a meal that wasn’t out of a can. Even the thought of Garrus’s shitty pancakes made Jane’s mouth water by day three of what the instructors cheerfully called “Hell Week.”

A rainstorm blew through on day five, leaving Jane’s tent (and most of the other cadets’ tents as well) a muddy heap of wet fabric. She wasn’t proud to admit it, but she had broken down into tears upon getting back to camp after their training for the day. Her favorite training officer had offered her a motherly hug before reminding her to pull herself together and kick ass.

Sleeping in what was essentially a puddle was not Jane’s idea of a good time, but her officer’s words stuck in her head. Garrus’s words from the shuttle bay came back, too. “My father was a great soldier and a hero. With any luck, you’ll be just like him.”

Jane grit her teeth, pulled her soaking-wet sleeping bag up to her chin, and managed to fall asleep.

She didn’t shed a single tear for the rest of basic.

 

_Dear Cadet Shepard,_

_Three months, can you believe it? Don’t know how I’ve made it this long. Your parents are getting grouchier the longer you’re gone. Your mom almost tore my head off today for suggesting I throw out those candies you forgot to eat before you left. Not making that mistake again._

_Your dad’s been drinking more, but that’s about it. I decided to try one of his beers – I figure that I spend so much damn time buying them for him, I ought to try one. Well, I couldn’t feel my tongue for a week. That whole levo-dextro thing makes a big difference after all, I guess._

_I’m sure you’re going to make fun of me to no end for bitching about things like that when you’re out getting shot or whatever. Do they use live ammo in basic? Please don’t get shot, regardless. When I said I wanted you to be a hero, I didn’t mean this soon. Can’t have it go to your head._

_Damn, are_ you _shooting? Remember when your dad bought that toy pistol for you, the year after you gave me all your birthday money? You couldn’t hit a thing with it. Hopefully you’ve gotten a little better since then._

_Looking at this letter, I’m not making sense at all. Maybe I shouldn’t write these this late at night. I’ll write the next one at a…more reasonable time of day._

_Hang in there. You’re halfway there, and now you’ve just got to finish strong. For both of us._

_Garrus_

 

It had taken a lot of outside practice time in what little free time Jane had to catch up to the other cadets in shooting. Many of them had come from families on Earth that hunted, or grew up on Alliance vessels like mini-soldiers – Jane had only ever had the toy pistol from her childhood.

Slowly, though, she’d noticed improvements. Her bullets had gradually drifted from the edges of the target towards the center, grouping closer together. The rifle had begun to feel more natural in her hands; hell, she was gradually getting used to everything but sniper rifles (she didn’t have nearly enough patience) and shotguns (she _hated_ the rib-bruising kickback).

She wasn’t too concerned about those two weapons, though – soldiers with shotguns weren’t exactly in short supply, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the turian she’d left behind on Elysium could complete her squad. Though it was a human organization, plenty of soldiers had dragged their turian slaves into the Alliance. Why should a soldier bringing along a turian friend be any different?

At least, that’s what she hoped her commanders would think.

Somehow, she’d have to convince the Alliance to help her free him, but she knew that if he could enlist he’d make a terrifying sniper. He’d patiently put up with all her crap through the years and could handle anything with a calm bit of bitter humor; he was so unshakeable Jane couldn’t see him as anything _but_ a sniper.

Jane sometimes wondered if she thought too much. She wouldn’t even get to see Garrus for another three months; she needed to be focusing on her training, not on “ifs” and “whens.” Then again, this was Garrus – it was a struggle to think about anybody or anything else.

 

_Dear Cadet Shepard,_

_Two more months now. I swear they keep getting longer. The days sure are. Your parents have me out in the fields now, and damn, it sucks. I don’t mind it that much, though. Gives me a good way to pass the hours. Everything’s feeling lonelier and lonelier without you. Can’t you graduate early, or something?_

_All kidding aside, it’ll be good to have you back. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two that you’ve learned. I think I could handle the Alliance. They take turians, right? I’m starting to be willing to do anything to get off this damn planet. Can you believe when I was little I thought it was a nice place to live? Now there’s a drought and the gangs are getting worse and we’re about one insult shy of a civil war here between the mayor and his assistant. Keeps life interesting, I guess._

_Your dad’s yelling at me to go help in the field. That’s about all he does these days, yell. Oh well. I’ll write you again later. Hang in there._

_Garrus_

 

The last month of basic seemed like a waste to Jane. She’d _finally_ mastered shooting, and all the other tests and exercises were practically games at this point. She continued to give it her all, remembering what Garrus and her commander had told her, but she desperately wished she could either be challenged more or be allowed to go home.

On her downtime, Jane would lie in her bunk or in the grass just outside the barracks, staring at the clouds and wondering what Garrus was up to. Cleaning, probably, or calibrating the house’s computers for the millionth time. He’d be laughing his head off if he could see her at basic training, lounging around daydreaming about him. What she wouldn’t do to hear that.

Some days, when the sky was cloudless, she’d spend hours memorizing every detail of Titus Vakarian’s dogtags. Garrus had never told her his last name, she had realized the first time she examined the tags. Vakarian. It had a certain ring to it.

The tags had clearly seen hell and then some; there was a bluish-greenish spot on one side that Jane was uncomfortably certain was a remnant of Titus’s blood. But it was a good way to spend idle time and keep away intruding thoughts – learning each chip and scratch and dent, tracing the words impressed on the metal, and running her fingers along each bead in the chain. 

Garrus loved these dogtags, so she would too. 

 

_Jane,_

_One more month. It feels like forever, but at the same time, it feels short. It’ll be so good to see you again._

_I can’t write for long. In good news, the political situation calmed down and they shut down those robber gangs. It’s nice to have some peace again, but it would be nice to have this drought gone too. The crops are dying in droves._

_Your parents really need you back. All they do is fight and argue, and they’re both stressed and angry all the time. I think having you back, even just for shore leave, will really help._

_It’ll really help me, that’s for damn sure. I’ve never missed anyone this much in my life, even my mom and dad and Solana. I’m going crazy without you here. I can hardly stand the days without you anymore. Damn, that sounds pitiful, doesn’t it? I’m going to delete this letter before you get to read it. Can’t have you thinking I’m some emotional teenager or something like that. I’d never get my dignity back. Doesn’t change the fact, that I’d give anything to speed up this month and see you again. You won’t get to read this, but it’s not like_ that’s _anything new. You’re way too smart to not know how much you mean to me._

 _I’m due back in the fields to harvest what we can. I’ll see you in a month. Hang in there – we’ll do our best to hang in there too._

_G._  

 

Jane stepped off the shuttle into the old Elysium docking bay. She’d never been so happy to stand in that tiny, decrepit building, but then again, never before had it meant she was _home_. 

She breathed in the familiar smell of Elysium, of pine trees and fresh air and fine dust from the streets, and smiled.


	9. Homecoming

“Janie!” Hannah cried, meeting her daughter at the front gate of the Shepards’ yard with a rib-crushing hug. “Oh, god, sweetie, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Mom,” Jane smiled, dropping her bag and hugging her mother back. She looked over Hannah’s shoulder, seeing her father leaning against the fence, but didn’t see Garrus – he must just be inside finishing dinner, Jane figured.

“Did they treat you okay? You look like you’ve lost weight!” Hannah said, holding Jane at arm’s length and examining her.

“Mom, it was basic. They weren’t going to be nice. I lost a little weight, but it’s fine. Garrus’s cooking should fix that quick enough,” Jane laughed.

She sidestepped her mother, going to give her father a brief hug while she waited for Garrus to come out. He rumbled, mussing her hair affectionately. “It’s good to have you back, kid.”

Jane laughed again, giving her father another hug. She looked around, noticing Garrus was still missing, and asked, “Where’s Garrus? I assumed he’d have to be dead and buried before he’d miss the chance to give me my first welcome back hug.”

At this, her parents made odd expressions and her mother shifted uncomfortably. Feeling her stomach churn and her heart leap to her throat, Jane demanded, “Where’s Garrus?”

The Shepards continued to remain silent so Jane persisted, voice getting higher, “Mom, Dad. Where is he?”

“Not here,” Joseph replied finally.

Jane had no idea what was going on, but she knew it wasn’t good. Her stomach clenched so violently she had to fight down a gag before she said, voice quavering, “Tell me where he is.”

“Not here,” Hannah confirmed, voice coming back. “Not on Elysium.”

“What?” was the only thing Jane could manage.

“Things got bad when you were gone, even worse than before. We needed money. So…w-we…we…we sold him,” Hannah explained, fidgeting nervously.

Jane stared at her parents, unwilling to believe them. After a long silence, Joseph said, “It was about two weeks ago.”

It was all Jane could do to fight off her nausea. She finally repeated, slowly, the words feeling wrong in her mouth, “You sold Garrus.”

Hannah nodded, worry and fear in her eyes. She started, “Jane, I know you and Garrus were close, but…”

Jane wanted to rage and scream, but simply standing was taking a colossal effort. She felt numb; her tongue was lead. No, Garrus couldn’t be gone. She could barely remember her home on Elysium without him…she could barely remember anything before him. He couldn’t be gone.

“…but he was a slave,” Joseph finished when Hannah trailed off.

“I…I know that,” Jane stammered, unable to wrap her mind around it. “But Dad, he’s my friend. He was part of the family.”

Hannah looked away, staring silently at her feet, unable to meet her daughter’s eyes. Joseph shook his head, scowling, “Jane, you don’t get it, do you? He was a _slave_. He was never part of the family, no matter what you seemed to think.”

It took everything in Jane not to burst into tears. No…no, he was wrong. Garrus _was_ family. He had been there for her through everything and despite everything. He was her truest friend in the entire galaxy.

“Dad…he’s my best friend,” Jane managed, voice tight with emotion. “How could you do something like that? I…I could’ve sent more money, or something…”

“Damn it, I knew we never should’ve bought him,” Joseph growled, losing his patience with Jane. “I knew you were going to get attached. He was a fucking slave, Jane. It doesn’t matter how many games you used to play with him. His life wasn’t worth anything. Even if it was, it wasn’t worth as much as ours. I’m not going to cry and beg forgiveness from you like your mother seems to want to do. Selling him was the easiest solution to the problems we were having.”

“Joseph,” Hannah scolded quietly, still not looking at Jane. “You could be a little kinder about it. Garrus _was_ with us for a long time.”

“God, not you too,” Joseph huffed, angry. “The _point_ of buying a slave is that they’re your property – you can do whatever you want with them. He was useful for a long time, and then it was more useful to sell him. I’m not going to fucking apologize for that or try to sugarcoat it. You wouldn’t be asking me to be nicer if I’d sold Jane’s favorite cow.”

Jane let out a long breath, trying to hold her composure. She squeezed her eyes shut against her building anger, managing, “Garrus isn’t an animal. He’s another sentient being. We might have…owned him, but he isn’t a sheep or a tractor. He’s a person too.”

“He’s a _turian_. They’re not any better than animals,” Joseph waved her off.

The memory of Garrus gently treating her injuries after Derek had beaten her flashed through Jane’s mind, finally bringing tears to her eyes. She accused, voice trembling, “He’s a better person than you are.”

Joseph’s face twisted in rage, but before he could interject, Jane went on, “He took care of me and supported me through everything – and he took care of you two, too. He was just a little kid when you bought him. You raised him just as much as you raised me. I know he loved you like his own family, in a way. He trusted you. And you…you don’t care about him at all? He’s just something you can throw away and not feel bad?”

Hannah’s sniffling betrayed her true feelings about the matter. Joseph rolled his eyes at his wife’s tears, spitting, “Jane Elizabeth Shepard. You don’t get to talk to me like this. I am your _father_. I made this decision for our whole family. And no, you won’t guilt trip me. He was a slave. Their whole role in life is to be useful, and when they aren’t, you get rid of them. He wasn’t useful anymore. Cry all you want, but he’s gone.”

“I’m going to get him back,” Jane vowed.

Joseph laughed, pulling something out of his pocket and tossing it at her. “We took back his omni-tool when we sold him to that slaver. Good fuckin’ luck finding him.”

Jane caught the tool, clutching at it like it was gold. She hissed back, “You’re horrible. I know you needed money, but _this_ was just to hurt Garrus…and me.”

She held up the omni-tool, her free hand clenched in a fist. “You had no reason to take this except to make sure I couldn’t find him. You _knew_ how much I cared about him and how much this would hurt me.”

“Grow up,” Joseph accused. “You’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re acting like a monster,” Jane snarled back, finally snapping. “You…you _both_ are.”

Hannah flinched; Jane ignored it. “There was an infinite number of things you could’ve done to make the money you needed, and you chose to sell Garrus _knowing_ it would hurt me.”

“Made the most money,” Joseph shrugged, seemingly amused by his daughter’s anger.

“Then maybe that should’ve convinced you he wasn’t – isn’t – worthless. He’s worth more than anyone else I know. _Especially_ you,” Jane spat, her tone damning. “Anyone who puts money over another person’s life is despicable. And I won’t be associated with anyone who thinks _any_ life is worthless.”

She turned and picked up her bag. Hannah shaken by Jane’s words, asked, “Jane, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to find Garrus,” Jane replied, grim. “I’m not coming home until I do.”

“It’s impossible. He could be anywhere in the galaxy,” Joseph countered.

“Then I guess this is goodbye,” Jane said, voice cold.

“Jane, wait!” Hannah pleaded.

Jane didn’t look back as she walked down the well-worn street one last time.

*

Hours later, Jane found herself in the only available room in the run-down motel on the edge of the slums. The door didn’t lock, the window was broken, and the couple in the room next door was having unbelievably loud sex, but she didn’t care.

Why should she care? Her best friend was gone and she had no way to find him – and to boot, she had fought with her parents. Her father’s callousness regarding Garrus made her sick, but her mother…Hannah had always loved and supported both Jane and Garrus. In her hurt and anger, Jane had condemned her mother for a decision that was clearly tearing her apart.

It felt like her insides had been replaced with a black hole.

She pulled out Garrus’s omni-tool, idly staring at it for a long time. Eventually she turned it on, wondering why she was bothering when all it could do was make her pain even worse.

Her omni-tool pinged – _5 new_ messages. Then the display of Garrus’s omni-tool lit up – _5 messages delivered._ Vaguely interested by the odd coincidence, Jane dully swiped over to look at the messages on Garrus’s omni-tool and nearly dropped it.

Letters. From Garrus.

He had told her he would write while she was gone, but Jane hadn’t realized he would actually do it. The letters must have just gotten delivered to her omni-tool, now that she was out of basic and allowed to receive messages again.

Jane read them one after another, desperately absorbing the only way she could still “hear” her friend’s voice. Tears were streaking down her cheeks from the moment she saw his name on the “sender” line, only growing heavier as she read page after page of his sarcastic updates and heartfelt affection.

The last letter was the worst. Reading his uncharacteristically emotional paragraph about missing her broke her heart, and his innocently oblivious comments about hiding the letter from her and seeing her soon tore what was left into pieces.

The omni-tool slid out of her hand and to the floor as she curled up and sobbed for hours.

He really was gone.

And all she had of him was a handful of letters he never thought she’d read.

 

It was in the early hours of the morning when Jane’s tears dried up, leaving her curled up and catatonic as she stared at the wall. She had no way to find him, no leads or ideas or even any authority to find either of those.

 _If anyone can do it, it’s you_ , she heard a beloved flanging voice say from somewhere in her memories. _Honestly. Jane, you’re the bravest and smartest and most genuine human I know. I’ll deny it if you ever reference this conversation, but I believe that with all my heart._

Her hand clenched into a fist. Garrus had believed in her, and here she was crying like a child. She hadn’t done anything to earn his unyielding trust, but it was never too late to start.

She was going to find him, no matter the odds. She was Jane Shepard – if anyone could do it, it was her.

Sleep continued to elude her as her brain buzzed with ideas. Bounty hunters? No, that could only go poorly. Census databases? No, slaves weren’t included. Planet-by-planet searching? She’d be dead before she’d searched a fraction of the galaxy.

Jane ruled out idea after idea until well after the sun rose. Nothing seemed feasible or even slightly plausible. Maybe this wasn’t possible after all.

No. She wouldn’t let herself think that. This was space, after all, the great void where anything was possible. She’d find him again – she knew it somewhere deep in her heart. No matter what it took.

Jane glanced at the omni-tool on the floor, looking for the time. The shiny glint of metal from her bag caught her eye, and everything fell into place like stars in a constellation.

Her Alliance badge.

The Alliance was what had taken her away from home, allowing Garrus to be taken from her. But could it help her get him back? The Alliance had ships in every major system in the galaxy, the trust of a large number of governments, and an inconceivably huge amount of resources.

If there was anything in the Milky Way that could reunite her with Garrus, it was the Alliance. She’d either serve with someone who’d seen him, see him on her travels, or the Alliance’s vast information network could provide her with something.

Well, that was a hell of a twist. The military she’d never wanted to join, whose basic training had cost her the one person she valued most, was about to become her life’s mission, the one way to find Garrus again.

Just being in the Alliance wasn’t good enough, though. Jane was a good soldier, she knew; someday she’d make a high enough rank to have the pull she needed to find her friend and get him out of whatever situation he was in.

Someday wasn’t soon enough.

There was another way, she knew, a far cry from the simple few years of service she’d been planning on. One that even she wasn’t sure she could do.

Alliance Special Forces. Attending the infamous N-School, getting her ass kicked six ways to Sunday, and eventually earning that coveted N7 rank. N7s could do just about anything they pleased and had access to so much more than any regular soldiers – access to information that could find Garrus for her.

 _If anyone can do it, it’s you_.

She got out of bed, splashed her face with cold water, and pulled Titus Vakarian’s dogtags out of her bag, putting them on alongside her own. Jane knew few women had completed N7 training. But if anyone had the drive to do it, it was her.

Jane hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and headed for the docking bay, where two very bored Alliance pilots lounged. One of them greeted, “Shepard, hey! What’s goin’ on?”

“I need to get back to headquarters,” Jane replied, not in any particular mood for pleasantries. “Heading back soon?”

“Shit, shore leave just started yesterday! Why do you want to head back so soon?” the other pilot asked.

“I’ve got my reasons,” Jane said, fixing the two men with a stern look. “Can you get me back, or not?”

“I mean we’re not doing anything else,” the first one shrugged. “Let me check with the captain first." 

He disappeared into the ship; Jane could faintly hear him using the ship’s radio. Soon after he came back, saying, “I mean, we’re not doing anything, so the captain said if you’re _sure_ you want to head back, you can. You won’t get any shore leave on Earth though.”

“I don’t want any,” Jane replied, heading up the ramp and onto the ship. “I’ve got more important things to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to reader Death7559 for correctly predicting the plot twist two chapters ago!


	10. Officer Vakarian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight Trigger Warning: a character that gets introduced in this chapter and will be around for a little while is super verbally abusive and a raging alcoholic. My goal wasn't to make people uncomfortable, just to show that real life sucks sometimes. If that's something you're not comfortable reading, drop a comment and I'll send you a summary so you can keep reading!

“Turian!”

Garrus sighed heavily, turning over but otherwise refusing to move.

“ _Turian!_ ”

Garrus closed his eyes, willing time to stand still long enough for him to get five more minutes of sleep, before heaving himself off his miserable little cot. Somehow, the damn thing was uncomfortable enough Garrus found himself longing for the comfort of Jane’s floor. He trudged out of his room – essentially a closet – and through the living room before arriving at his master’s door with a grumbled, “Yeah?”

“It’s ‘yes, sir,’ you disrespectful skullface,” his master snarled. Garrus narrowly avoided the beer bottle chucked at him.

“Yes, sir,” Garrus replied, trying to hide his heavy sigh and eye roll. “What can I get for you?”

“Water. Breakfast,” his master mumbled back.

Garrus nodded, heading back for the kitchen. He’d only been on the Citadel for a few days, but spirits, how he missed the kind way Hannah would thank him for meals and how Jane would mercilessly tease – tease, not disparage – his cooking.

Now he just got either bottles or insults lobbed at him.

At least cooking was easy now. With his new master, breakfast was nothing but water and leftover cold pizza from the night before. Garrus dutifully filled up a cup of water and piled a few slices of pizza on a plate, cautiously poking his head into the bedroom before stepping inside.

He had to fight down a gag at the smell. When his master had stumbled home blackout drunk last night Garrus had dragged a trashcan into his room to spare at least _some_ of the carpet. Somehow, it seemed everything _but_ the trashcan had been covered in vomit.

Garrus hid another sigh, stepping delicately around the room before handing the pitiful meal to the severely hungover man in the bed. He was almost back at the door when he heard a grumble of, “Don’t forget to clean this mess up today.”

“Yes, sir,” Garrus sighed heavily.

“And don’t forget you start at C-Sec today. “The words were hardly intelligible through the mouthful of pizza.

“What?” Garrus asked. C-Sec? Were turians even allowed to join it anymore?

“Money doesn’t make itself,” his master scowled. “I didn’t buy you because you’re pretty.”

Garrus rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. He’d deal with the catastrophe in the bedroom later. Apparently, he had a job to get to. That was news to him. What would Jane think of him working for C-Sec? Part of him thought she would be proud – she knew how much he admired his father and wanted to be like him.

The other part of him knew she’d laugh at him for settling for bureaucrats and paperwork when he could be doing something useful in the Alliance.

Not that he really had a choice in the matter.

*

Garrus couldn’t count the number of times he had dreamed about visiting the Citadel; the stories his father used to tell when Garrus was young made it sound like a wonderful, magical place.

Reality had proven much harsher – the Citadel was little more than an overcrowded, confusing mess of people to Garrus. It had taken him nearly two hours to find the C-Sec office he was supposed to report to, per the instructions in the email he found when he hacked into his master’s terminal.

The office was not in a part of the Citadel Garrus that would generally go even if given the choice. He knew he was much larger than the thugs who gave him side-eyed glares as he walked into the office, but they still unnerved him.

“You lost?” a voice called, shaking Garrus out of his thoughts.

“Uh, what?” he managed lamely. The human sitting at what served as a sort-of reception desk sighed, looking annoyed.

“You deaf, kid? Turians don’t usually turn up in the Wards on purpose. Let’s get you back where you belong,” the human replied, moving to pull something up on the computer he was working on.

“No, I’m supposed to be here,” Garrus insisted.

The human regarded him curiously before realization dawned on his face. “Should’ve figured. You must be McCarthy’s.”

McCarthy sounded right, although Garrus wasn’t entirely sure he’d even caught his new master’s name. The man was either drinking or hurling abuse at Garrus, leaving very little time for introductions.

“Yes, sir,” Garrus nodded.

The human beckoned him over. “Name’s Bailey. Let’s get you set up.”

Garrus obediently walked to Bailey’s desk, awkwardly sitting in the too-small chair across from it. As he pulled up records, Bailey said, “Sorry you have to deal with McCarthy, kid. He’s a real douchebag.”

There wasn’t a good response to that comment, Garrus knew, so he settled on silence. Bailey went on, “Not surprised he bought a fucking slave to show up to work for him. Never met a lazier bastard.”

“He’s…something,” Garrus agreed lamely, still wary of saying too much.

“Your file is going to be under his name, but I need your name. It’s not in here, unless your name is turian,” Bailey said after a brief silence.

_Might as well be at this point_ , Garrus thought bitterly. After a moment he said aloud, “Garrus. Vakarian. My name’s Garrus Vakarian.”

Bailey typed the information, pausing to regard the screen curiously. “Vakarian. That name’s familiar. You’re…are you Titus’s boy?”

Garrus nodded, ignoring the sting of pain that came with his father’s name. Bailey continued, “Titus was a damn good agent. Glad I got to work with him. Whatever happened to him, anyway?”

“Died in the war,” Garrus replied simply, voice tight.

“Sorry to hear it,” Bailey frowned. “Well, if you’re half as good as your dad, you’ll be the best damn agent we’ve had in C-Sec in a long time.”

Garrus had no reply. Bailey kept working for a while before saying, “You’ll be good to go tomorrow. It takes about a day for paperwork to go through with all these goddamn politicians in charge. Come back tomorrow to get your equipment and authorizations. Take the rest of the day off; learn your way around the Citadel. I’ll leave you on the clock so you don’t have to explain that to McCarthy.”

“Thank you,” Garrus said.

“No problem,” Bailey nodded. “Not a fan of us allowing scumbags like McCarthy to send their slaves to work their tails off so they can lounge around at home. Can’t even pay you. It’s a damn shame, but the Council’s okay with it, so I can’t do much.”

“I think I’d be more confused if I _did_ get paid,” Garrus managed to quip, suddenly remembering Jane offering him her birthday money and feeling ill. “Not a concept I grew up with.”

Bailey laughed bitterly. “Well, on my end, I’d rather work with you than your master. He was a shit agent, and honestly I’m glad he’d rather spend all his time drinking than pretending to be respectable.”

The human stood, offering a friendly hand, which Garrus shook. “It’s good to have a Vakarian back in C-Sec, Garrus. Hope you find something resembling happiness here. You poor bastards have been through enough.” 

“Good to be doing something useful for a change,” Garrus replied. Bailey sat back down and returned to work, which Garrus took as his cue to leave.

 

The Citadel was beautiful, Garrus had to give it that. What would Jane think of it? He wasn’t sure what she’d like more, the beautiful views and stores and wonderful things to do in the Presidium, or the rough-and-tumble, hardscrabble Wards and the officers that patrolled them.

He sat at a bench in the Presidium Commons for hours after his meeting with Bailey, watching the people and ships and skycars go by. No, Jane would probably hate the Citadel with its superficial beauty and stringent rules everywhere. Hell, Garrus wasn’t entirely sure what _he_ thought about it, and he lived and now apparently worked there.

Garrus also wasn’t entirely sure what he thought about his sudden position at C-Sec. In a way, it had fulfilled a dream he’d had ever since he could remember, of being like his father and protecting people. But instead of a triumphant return of a Vakarian to C-Sec and the Citadel, it was simply a slave doing what he was told by his demanding master.

Fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on people. It had given Garrus a job he’d always wanted in a way he’d never wanted it, and it had given him the best friend he could ever ask for, just to take her away.

What a load of bullshit.

Garrus quickly decided the Commons were far too peaceful, allowing for rude, intruding thoughts to torment him. He made his way around the Wards and the Embassies, doing his best to memorize streets and walkways and buildings and anything useful in learning his way around.

He passed by a colossal hospital, more stores than he’d ever seen, and a bar practically the size of a small cruiser – spirits, what he wouldn’t do for a drink. The bouncers regarded him with stern, unwelcoming glares; Garrus quickly headed back to the elevator and to safer ground.

Where even _was_ he, now? Somewhere in the docking bays, it looked like, but at some point his careful attention to directions had lapsed into daydreaming, and now he had no clue where he was. Garrus sighed, pulling up the map he’d uploaded onto the old datapad the Shepards had let him take.

So much for learning his way around.

He glanced at the map, picked a direction, and kept walking.

Eventually his wanderings found him back in front of the apartment he already hated so much – instinct told him to simply up and leave, but common sense stopped his feet and convinced him to head inside and deal with whatever McCarthy needed now.

McCarthy. As if Garrus needed yet another reason to miss Jane, to feel her absence like a missing limb. He’d been sold to a colossal asshole.

Surprisingly, McCarthy was out of bed, although he still looked incredibly miserable. He didn’t acknowledge Garrus as he walked into the apartment, aside from shooting him a sharp glare.

“Yes, I know,” Garrus sighed, seeing the dirty look. “Dinner.”

“I’m having company tonight. A nice dinner for two. Don’t fuck it up,” McCarthy growled back.

“Lady friend?” Garrus couldn’t help but ask.

“None of your fucking business,” McCarthy snapped, returning his attention to the television.

Garrus sighed, heading into the kitchen to start dinner for McCarthy and his mysterious friend. He was exhausted from his tour of the Citadel and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but it looked like that wouldn’t be an option for a while.

He started pasta, the easiest “nice meal” he knew how to make, hoping it would be acceptable enough to spare him verbal abuse or bottles lobbed at him. Garrus couldn’t help but remember when he was new to the Shepards’ house, how Jane had sat on the counter and watched him cook, offering well more than her fair share of snarky comments. Hell, she’d done that every night before dinner until the day she’d left.

He idly imagined her perched on the counter beside him, watching him work and mocking his inability to get _any_ kind of sauce consistency right. It lifted some of his tiredness, somehow, to nearly be able to hear Jane’s voice, even if he was imagining her teasing him. Spirits, he was starting to sound like a lovesick teenager. When had _that_ happened?

More accurately, had there ever been a time he _hadn’t_ felt this way about Jane?

He shut down that train of thought instantly. It was a moot point now. She was gone, and he wasn’t going to torture himself with thoughts like that. He had a master that all but tortured him; he didn’t need to be doing it to himself, too.

Still, though, he glanced over at where he imagined Jane sitting, her odd flat human teeth glinting in the stark light as she laughed, a mischievous glint in her striking green eyes. 

He knew she wasn’t there, and that she never would be, but it didn’t matter – for the first time since he’d left Elysium, he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End note: I am SO SORRY this has taken so long! My beta and I are both in college, it's almost finals, and she's about to graduate, so our lives have been chaotic recently. Didn't mean to leave you hanging on that last chapter ):


	11. Training Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the lack of posting for a while, here's two chapters in two days!

Shepard sat alone in a dive bar not too far from Alliance headquarters staring blankly into her glass. She’d completed N5 training the day before, and she was exhausted. The only things keeping her awake were knowing that soon she’d start N6 training and _finally_ achieve N7 status and the birthday tradition she’d adopted a year ago, as soon as she’d turned 21.

She came back to reality, idly picking up her glass and examining the amber liquid inside. An untouched glass of purple liquor sat on the bar next to her. Jane looked at it, sighed, clinked her glass against it, and mumbled into her drink, “Cheers, Garrus. Happy birthday. Somewhere out there, you’re twenty. You wouldn’t even be able to have the drink I got you.”

If the bartender noticed the sad little toast, he said nothing, leaving her to sit in silence with her drink.

Jane remained there long after she emptied her glass, reminiscing. She had just vaguely thought how she should leave and do something productive when a voice asked, “Lieutenant Shepard?”

Jane turned to find a turian in Alliance armor standing behind her. She replied, “That’s me. Can I help you?”

“Captain Anderson would like to see you in his office,” the turian explained.

“What about?” Jane asked, puzzled. Anderson was a hero of the First Contact War, an incredible soldier, and on more than one occasion, a mentor to Jane. But he was a very, very busy man, and Jane knew she hadn’t done anything recently worth his time.

“I’m just the secretary, ma’am. He didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask,” the turian shrugged. “But he asked that you come at your earliest convenience.”

“That’s now,” Jane replied, suddenly eager to get out of the depressing, run-down bar. She hopped down from her stool, tossing a credit chit on the bar.

“There’s no rush, ma’am. You can finish your drink,” the turian said.

Jane laughed. “I can’t drink that. Dextro liquor – I’d get sick. It’s all yours.”

“Ma’am?” the turian asked, surprised.

“I bought it for a friend, but he couldn’t make it,” Jane replied, wishing it wasn’t a half-truth. “Must’ve been hard to find me in a place like this. You earned it.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” the turian nodded. He tossed back the drink like it wasn’t pure liquor, shook his head against the sting, and said, “I’ll show you to the Captain’s office.”

*

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Jane asked, knocking on her commander’s door as she entered his office.

“Lieutenant,” Anderson greeted. “Yes, I did.”

“What about, sir?” Jane sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

“I wanted to talk to you about your N-School training,” Anderson replied.

“What about it?” Jane pressed, confused.

“Shepard, your service history is nothing if not impressive,” Anderson said. “You’re the youngest solider in Alliance history to attend N-School. The fastest anyone’s ever qualified for N7 designation was two years. If you stay on track, you’ll have done it in one.”

“Yes, sir,” Jane nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“It’s not healthy, Shepard. We both know how demanding the training is. You’ve gone from level to level without any kind of shore leave or break. And it has me worried,” Anderson went on.

Jane could feel a wave of panic washing over her. She asked, trying not to sound overly defensive, “What are you implying, sir?”

“I’m denying your request to begin N6 training, for your own good,” Anderson replied. Shepard couldn’t even open her mouth before he went on, “Your drive is admirable and I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent N7. But if you keep up this pace, you’re going to crack, and I’m not about to let one of the best young officers in the Alliance crash and burn so quickly.”

Jane’s head was spinning. N6 training…denied? She’d done everything that had ever been asked of her, and then some. She was a damn good soldier. There was no reason for Anderson to say no. He _couldn’t_ say no – every day Jane wasn’t an N7 was a day she could hardly look for Garrus.

“Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine,” Jane managed. “I don’t need leave. I do my best and feel my best when I keep myself busy. I…I don’t want a break. I want to finish my training.”

“I know,” Anderson said, fixing Jane with a harsh, but paternal, look. “But you’ve got yourself so tightly wound you won’t know anything’s wrong until it’s too late. You can protest all you want, but you’re going to take at least three months off of training before I’ll consider it again. N6 training is harder than the previous levels combined – I want you ready for it.”

Jane stared blankly at Anderson, unwilling to accept it. Something was telling her it was now or never, and that was quickly slipping away to become a permanent “never.”

“I am ready for it,” Jane protested desperately. “Sir, I promise.”

“Shepard. Give yourself a break – you’ve earned it,” Anderson’s tone indicated he was done arguing.

Jane clenched her hand into a fist, willing it to stop trembling. She wasn’t giving up on this, just like Garrus had never given up on her. Anderson would change his mind. He _had_ to.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with some other captains I should be heading to,” Anderson said, breaking Jane out of her thoughts. “Stay here as long as you need.”

“Sir, please,” Jane finally managed as Anderson was almost out the door.

Anderson stopped, turning to face her again. Jane got up, trying her hardest to keep her composure – any dramatic show of emotions would just prove Anderson’s point. But she _needed_ this.

“You really are set on this,” Anderson wasn’t asking. “Why?”

“Sir?” Jane asked.

“If it were anyone else, I’d say they wanted the glory of N7 status, and being the person who did it the fastest. But not you – I know you never wanted to be a career soldier. So why are you so dead set on this?” Anderson clarified.

Jane took a deep breath. Anderson was willing to hear her out, at least. That was a good start, but it meant she had to be honest now. No one in the Alliance knew about Garrus or her personal quest to find him, and she had wanted to keep it that way.

But hiding wasn’t going to get her anywhere anymore.

She took another breath to steel herself and asked, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Always,” Anderson nodded.

“And confidentially?” Jane added, confidence faltering.

“Of course,” Anderson agreed. “Sit down if you need to, Shepard.”

Jane contemplated it but managed to steady herself. “Sir, have you ever lost anyone you cared about?”

“Of course. You don’t get to be my age, or my rank, without losing people,” Anderson nodded.

It took a moment before the tightness in Jane’s throat eased enough for her to be able to speak again. “Have you ever lost someone that means more to you than anyone or anything else?”

“Yes,” Anderson replied simply. He paused and went on, voice full of concern, “Shepard, are you all right? I don’t recall anything about loss of a spouse or family member in your file.”

“Not a spouse, and not family,” Jane clarified. “My best friend.”

She paused, laughing bitterly. “That doesn’t come close to describing how much I care about Garrus. But no, we weren’t together.”

Anderson regarded her curiously. “Garrus? That sounds like a turian name.”

“It is,” Jane nodded. “Garrus was my family’s slave on Elysium. But I never saw him like that. We grew up together. He’s the only person I can say I trust unconditionally. He’s…my best friend.”

“There’s more to this story,” Anderson commented.

Jane nodded again. “When I was at basic, my parents hit hard times. They sold him. I found out when I got home. Ever since then, I’ve been looking for him.”

“It could take a lifetime to find one turian in this galaxy. Do you have any leads?” Anderson asked.

Jane shook her head. “No. They sold him to a slaver, and then he was gone. I’ve got nothing.”

“And what does this have to do with N-School?” Anderson continued.

“You know as well as I do, sir, that N7s have access to more information and resources than just about anyone except Council Spectres. I think those resources can help me find Garrus,” Jane explained.

“That’s a hell of a long shot, Shepard,” Anderson replied.

Jane sighed. “I know, sir. But it’s my only shot, at least the only one I can see.”

“And why is this so time-sensitive?” Anderson continued. “If you and your friend care about each other as much as it seems you do, he wouldn’t want you running yourself into the ground like this.”

“Garrus has suffered enough. His father died in the war and since then, he was enslaved, taken away from what was left of his family, and sold away from the only home he’s really known. If there is anything I can do to shorten the suffering he’s going through by even a day, I’m going to do it,” Jane replied fiercely. “I don’t care about records or glory or rest or anything like that. I only care about finding Garrus and doing my best to make up for all the shit he’s been through.”

Despite himself, Anderson smiled. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you, Shepard. There aren’t a lot of people who would go to lengths like this for a friend.”

“Like I said, sir, he’s more than just my friend. We’ve been through a lot together,” Jane said.

The two officers regarded each other for a while, both in deep thought. After a very, very long silence, Anderson finally said, “Well, if you’re sure, then I’ll withdraw my paperwork. I’ll have Tarquin get the ball rolling to get you enrolled in N6 training. But you have to promise me you’ll take some shore leave when you’re done.”

“Thank you, sir. I promise,” Jane replied, relieved. After a moment she asked, “Tarquin?”

“The turian I sent to get you,” Anderson replied. When he saw Jane bristle, he laughed. “He’s a free turian, Shepard. You aren’t the only human in the Alliance who thinks slavery is wrong.”

Jane nodded, relieved. Anderson went on, “I do have to get this meeting. Come back in a few days. Tarquin should have the paperwork done by then.”

She took the hint and left, heading back to the hotel she was staying in. Her exhaustion from N5 training finally caught up to her; she was out cold as soon as she touched her bed.

Jane’s dreams were fitful and fragmented, the kind of dreams one wonders if they even had the next day, the kind of dreams someone both exhausted beyond measure but determined to persevere has.

The only snippet she could recall when she woke was of her sharing a toast with a turian. It had been almost five years since she had seen Garrus, but she knew it was him.

*

It was barely dawn when Jane awoke again, utterly unrested from her fitful sleep. She had nowhere in particular to be at this hour, but she could feel a strange buzz of energy and excitement, as if the air itself was anticipating something.

Unable to fall back asleep, Jane got dressed and went for a walk – the chilly air was a welcome wake-up, and the city was still and peaceful. She wasn’t sure when the last time she had simply gone out to appreciate the world like this was, but it had been far, far too long.

“Lieutenant,” a familiar voice called.

Jane turned and saw Tarquin walking towards her, holding something that looked like coffee. She greeted, “Tarquin…Anderson didn’t mention your rank.”

“Petty Officer,” Tarquin replied, waving her off. “Tarquin is fine, ma’am.”

“What are you doing up this early?” Jane asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question, ma’am. I’m heading to work,” Tarquin nodded at the building behind Jane. She turned – somehow, her wanderings had brought her back to Alliance headquarters.

“I was just out for a walk. Wasting time until my paperwork goes through,” Jane explained.

“It’s already done, ma’am,” Tarquin replied.

Jane recoiled a little, surprised. “Anderson said it would be a few days.”

“I couldn’t help but hear part of your conversation,” the turian said. When Jane flinched, he added quickly, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But hearing what you said about your friend, and everything you’re trying to do for him…it means a lot to me. Not a lot of people, especially in the Alliance, give a shit about turians. Especially slaves. So when I heard you talking…I couldn’t help it. I wanted to help. I did your paperwork as soon as you and the captain left. It’s already been approved.”

Jane couldn’t remember a time when she was more appreciative of an eavesdropper. “Petty Officer, thank you. You really didn’t have to. You could have gotten in trouble if Anderson found out you were listening.”

“You didn’t have to do anything you’ve done, either,” Tarquin replied. “I’m not sure what you know about turians, ma’am, but despite everything, we’re a damn proud species. If someone’s going to go to extremes to help us, we’ll do the same for them. Especially if it helps out another turian.”

Jane smiled. “Thank you.”

Tarquin’s mandibles flared in a smile, an expression Jane hadn’t realized she missed until she saw it again. “I’m rooting for you, ma’am. If there’s anything I can do to help you and your friend, let me know.”

“I appreciate it,” Jane nodded.

She started to head into headquarters, prompting Tarquin to ask, “Ma’am? There’s no paperwork or anything you need to do. You can finish your walk.”

Jane turned and offered him a confident grin, reinvigorated by the prospect of being so close to her goal. “That was just because I had time to kill. But now that I’m cleared for training, it’s time to kick some ass.”

“Best of luck, ma’am,” Tarquin nodded, smiling.

Jane smirked back, recalling another turian’s words from a long time ago. “I don’t need luck. I’m Jane Shepard – if there’s anyone who can do this, it’s me.”


	12. A Way Out

“Vakarian,” Bailey nodded at him as Garrus walked into the office.

“Sir,” Garrus nodded back. “Anything going on today?”

“There’s always something going on, you know that,” Bailey scowled, not even looking up from his computer. “Got some refugees who escaped raids from those fucking batarian slavers – we need to find places for them. Blue Suns are shaking down shopkeepers in the Wards, vague death threat against the asari Councilwoman, and Blood Pack and Eclipse mercs are both going to be in Purgatory tonight, which means a hell of a bar fight.”

“So, the usual,” Garrus shrugged. He’d seen so much shit in his time at C-Sec that sometimes he worried about how much it _did_ take to faze him.

“Pretty much,” Bailey replied. “Check out the threat against the Councilwoman, would you? No rush. The Executor put a full-time guard on her until this gets settled.”

“Will do,” Garrus agreed. He hesitated before asking, “Do you have a minute?”

“Not really, but for you, Vakarian, sure,” Bailey replied, tossing his datapad to the side and finally looking up at Garrus.

“I was wondering if you’d heard anything about my Spectre application,” Garrus said, doing his best imitation of calm and collected when all he wanted to do was fidget.

*

It was two months ago that Garrus submitted his Spectre application. He had never intended on applying – he actually enjoyed the work he was doing for C-Sec – but his master had had other plans, of course.

“Turian!” McCarthy yelled.

Garrus sighed, setting down the case file he’d been reading and going towards the sound of McCarthy’s voice and the reek of his shitty beer. “Yes, sir?”

“I hear you’re some kind of big fuckin’ deal in C-Sec now,” McCarthy said, though the words were faint praise, his tone was accusatory.

“Just been doing my job,” Garrus replied.

“Don’t do this fake modesty shit. I know how goddamn proud you turians are,” McCarthy snapped back.

McCarthy fell silent, leaving Garrus to wonder if he’d just been called into the living room to be belittled – not that that had never happened before. He was just about to ask when his master went on, “Well, Mr. Fuckin’ Big Shot, you’re gonna have to prove you’re worth half the damn you think you’re worth before I’m gonna treat you like it.”

He took a swig of beer and went on, “Tell you what. I’ll even let you prove it to me. Apply to be a Spectre. You make it, you’re free.”

“What?” Garrus asked, surprised. Had he heard that right?

“You heard me, moron. Apply to be a Spectre. You get picked, I let you go,” McCarthy replied with a hiccup.

A way out. McCarthy was voluntarily offering Garrus a way out, and not an entirely implausible one either. Garrus wasn’t sure what he’d done to have the spirits smile so fondly on him today, but he wasn’t going to argue with it.

“I’ll think about it,” Garrus finally managed, quickly heading back to his room before McCarthy could say anything else.

Garrus really had no desire to be a Spectre – he was as content as he could be serving in the Wards, helping to protect people from lowlifes and mercenaries. Watching movies about Spectres and their insane antics and dangerous missions for the Council was one thing. Actually _doing_ the missions was something else.

Then again, he really had no desire to be a slave anymore, either.

Part of him knew it was an easy decision – how in the name of the spirits could he pass up a chance, any chance, at freedom? Then again, was being a Spectre _really_ being free? He would be at the beck and call of the Council, constantly being called on to make the hard choices he didn’t know how to make and risk his life and the lives of anyone he worked with.

Garrus found himself wishing Jane was there to offer advice. Longing for her had practically become a reflex at this point, a pathetic coping mechanism. He hated having to rely on it and knew that clinging to someone long gone couldn’t be healthy, and yet the memories always came back when he needed them.

He always tried to shoo them away to prevent the pain that came from remembering that he’d never see the woman in his memories, the woman he loved, again.

That was a hell of a thought – he loved Jane. Then again, he realized, it was as obvious as the Spectre situation was. Garrus had grown up with Jane, spent entire days and months and years by her side, nursed her injuries and kept her secrets, and even slept in her bed for nine years.

How he’d taken all of those things for granted at the time. Spirits, he was an idiot. What he wouldn’t give now to even just see Jane again, much less curl up and fall asleep beside her.

Garrus shook his head, bringing him back to the present. He had a Spectre application to consider; he couldn’t waste any more time mourning Jane. Spirits knew he’d done that enough for nearly five years now.

Well, what _would_ Jane do? What would she say?

She’d laugh at him for hesitating at all and offer the affectionate, encouraging kind of backhanded compliment she so often gave him.

“Jesus, Garrus,” she’d laugh, incredulous. “You think being a Spectre’s worse than McCarthy? I don’t know about you, but if I had half a brain I’d want to get the fuck out of there. What’s the worst they’re gonna do, say no? I mean, you’re not easy on the eyes, but you sure work hard, and you’re one of the sharper tools in the shed.”

Imaginary Jane had a point, Garrus conceded. The worst they could do was say no. And if being a Spectre was as miserable as he feared, he supposed he could always quit and join the Alliance. He’d seen more than a few turians wandering the Citadel in Alliance armor.

_Fuck it_ , he thought, pulling up the application on the terminal.

Garrus spent a week on the application, checking and double-checking and triple-checking everything, polishing his words as much as he could. If he knew McCarthy, this was a one-time-only offer – if this application was rejected, their deal was off, and Garrus was stuck.

After getting his (glowing) letter of recommendation from Bailey and finagling a nomination from the human councilor – who seemed to Garrus to be as much of an ass as McCarthy – Garrus turned in his application, praying it would earn him his freedom.

Now all he could do was wait.

*

“Oh, right,” Bailey nodded. “Sit down. Let’s talk.”

Garrus knew it couldn’t be good, but he grudgingly sat down, quipping, “Don’t try to spare my feelings. I know a rejection when I hear it.”

“Yeah,” Bailey sighed. “Shot down, pretty much right away. I did what I could, but it wasn’t very much.”

“Should’ve known better than to apply,” Garrus sighed as well. “Spirits forbid a turian getting any position of power and letting it go to their head. Then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Not necessarily,” Bailey replied. “There’s some people starting to realize that what we did to you all was fucked up. Been a big push in the Alliance, at least, against slavery. Then again, that’s been mostly supported by Captain Anderson and a couple of his subordinates, and Councilor Udina _hates_ Anderson. Probably a lot of spite involved in his decision.”

“I always love being a pawn in a political game,” Garrus said dryly. “It’s almost as much fun as being a slave.”

“I’m sorry about this, Vakarian. As much as I’d hate to lose you, I’d rather you’re not stuck with McCarthy,” Bailey sighed. “Look, if there’s anything I can do…”

“There’s not,” Garrus didn’t mean to speak so harshly, but he couldn’t help it. He had gotten his hopes too high, only to watch helplessly as the Council gunned them down.

“Sir?” the voice of Bailey’s secretary came through his omni-tool’s communicator.

“I’m a little busy right now,” Bailey replied, annoyed.

“Sir, Councilor Valern is here to see you,” the secretary ignored him.

“The salarian Councilor?” Bailey sounded floored. “Send him in.”

Both Garrus and Bailey rose to greet the salarian. Bailey said, uncharacteristically politely, “Councilor. This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“Unfortunately this needs to be brief,” Valern replied. Garrus was once again struck with wonder at how salarians talked so damn _fast_. “Officer Vakarian, may I speak to you privately?”

“Uh,” Garrus managed lamely, caught off-guard. He glanced at Bailey, who nodded and said, “Officer Vakarian and I just finished up. He’s all yours.”

Both confused and surprised, Garrus followed the salarian out of the office. Valern didn’t speak as they took the elevator to the Presidium Commons; Garrus, unsure of what was going on, didn’t dare to break the silence.

They began walking around the Commons before Valern spoke. He began with, “You applied to be a Spectre.”

“Yes,” Garrus admitted, bitter. Leave it to the Council to deny his application and then come down to personally rub it in his face. “It, uh…didn’t go well.”

“Yes. My apologies,” Valern replied.

“What?” Garrus asked after a moment, belatedly realizing what the salarian had said.

“I disagreed with the decision. You are more than capable,” Valern said. “You would have made an excellent Spectre.”

“I’m flattered,” Garrus replied, his flat tone hiding the small bit of pleasure he did take from Valern’s words. “But it seems the rest of the Council disagreed.”

“Yes, and for petty reasons,” Valern replied. “Councilor Udina hates the Alliance’s Captain Anderson, who supports turian rights. Making a turian a Spectre would be a victory for Anderson. Udina would not allow it.”

“But that’s only one Councilor,” Garrus put in. He didn’t exactly want to start an argument with a Councilor, but he wasn’t going to accept simply blaming this Udina jackass, either. “What about the asari Councilor, or the turian one?”

“Ah. Yes. Councilor Sparatus...he is a Councilor only in name. He has no actual voting authority. Regarding Councilwoman Tevos…problematic. Years ago your master saved her life. Owed him a debt of gratitude. He contacted her and requested your application be denied. To fulfill her debt, she voted with Udina. I was outnumbered.”

Garrus felt like he’d been hit by an elcor. He knew McCarthy was a douchebag, but he’d never expected he was _this_ much of one. He asked, “You said my…master wanted the application denied?”

“Correct. He did not want to lose his investment to the Council,” Valern nodded.

“I…see,” Garrus managed. “Councilor, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course. I must go as well. Just wanted you to know that your application was not without merit,” Valern said.

“I appreciate that,” Garrus replied, doing his best to stay passably civil despite his building anger.

Valern nodded again, heading back for the elevator. Garrus opted to take a walk, preferring _not_ to be executed for murdering McCarthy in anger.

Of _course_ McCarthy had found a way to sabotage Garrus’ only chance at freedom. Hell, that was probably why he had suggested it in the first place, to torment and humiliate him. He did that on a daily basis; Garrus had no idea why he’d gone to such lengths this time.

Spirits, he’d been so hopeful. He was so close to being _free_. And it all came crashing down. It seemed to be a theme with anything going well in his life.

He finally headed back to the apartment, his anger replaced by tired emptiness. He was never going to get out of here, was he?

“Hear back about your application?” McCarthy sneered at Garrus as he walked inside.

Garrus ignored him, going to his room and curling up on his old, worn-out cot. Once again, he found himself longing for Jane’s presence. She’d know exactly what to say, or if she didn’t, she would simply _be_ there, her small, warm hands wrapped around his.

He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. He was just about to turn off the busy readouts on his visor when an idea struck him. It wasn’t much, and it still probably wasn’t healthy, but it was comforting.

With fervent apologies to both his parents, he moved the old picture of his mother off of the display and into the databank of the visor before grabbing the old datapad the Shepards had given him.

It took a long time to find what he was looking for in the mess of case files, fruitless searches of Citadel news reports, and drafts of his Spectre application, but finally, he found it.

Somehow, only one picture of Jane and Garrus had wound up on his datapad, but it was his favorite picture of them, both of them laughing and smiling. Garrus uploaded the picture to his visor and put it where his mother’s picture had been.

He’d never stop longing for Jane, he knew, no matter how pathetic and hopeless it was. At least now, he always had her with him. 

“I miss you, Jane,” he mumbled before he fell asleep.


	13. The Blitz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm alive!  
> In all seriousness, I am so, so, so sorry for the delay. The whole work is written; I was waiting for my fantastic beta to edit this. She's had a LOT going on the past few months, and we were waiting for that to pass before getting back to editing this. Unfortunately, it's taking longer than expected, so I've decided to post at least the next few chapters unedited for now so everyone can at least get the story. I may go back and fix things later, but they'll likely be small changes.  
> I can't apologize enough for making everyone wait so long. I've felt horrible about this for weeks, hence the decision to go unedited for a while. I hope everyone likes the rest of the story, and that it's not too messy without edits.

“N7, huh,” the bartender commented, seeing the insignia on Jane’s breastplate. “Pretty big deal, isn’t it?”

“Something like that,” Jane replied into her glass.

“Well, what brings you to Elysium, Ms. Big Shot?” the bartender asked.

“It’s Lieutenant Big Shot,” Jane joked, tossing back her drink. “Shore leave.”

“You picked a damn boring planet for shore leave,” the bartender commented, pouring her another drink.

“I grew up here,” Jane replied. “I come back here to remind myself how lucky I was to get off it.”

“Lieutenant!” a frantic voice yelled. One of Jane’s subordinates on the SSV Agincourt had burst into the bar, looking terrified.

“Ensign Thomas? What’s wrong?” Jane demanded, concerned at the normally level-headed woman’s demeanor.

“Ma’am, the colony’s under attack!” Thomas exclaimed.

“What? From who?” Jane recoiled, surprised.

“Batarians!” Thomas replied. She cast a glance over her shoulder. “There’s so many of them!”

“Fuck,” Jane hissed. She turned to the bartender. “I’ll be back to pay my tab.”

“No worries,” the bartender replied serenely.

Jane followed Thomas out – there was a huge group, mostly batarians, charging towards the city. Some of the other Alliance soldiers had taken up positions to try to slow the onslaught, but it wasn’t going to be enough.

“I’m going to get my guns,” Jane told Thomas, who was white with fear. “I’ll be right back. We’ll stop this.”

By the time Jane had fetched her guns from her barracks room, the feeble line had collapsed; Junior Lieutenant Erickson, who had been holding the center of the barricade, was dead on the ground. The other young officers around him were doing their best, but they’d never seen combat before. Batarians were pouring through the gap that the lack of Erickson had made.

Jane pulled out her assault rifle and ran towards the rapidly retreating soldiers, shooting at the batarians chasing after them. She yelled, “Stop retreating! Hold the line!”

Jane took up Erickson’s position, sealing the breach the batarians had made. Her soldiers rallied, stopping their retreat and firing back. They were vastly outnumbered, though, and Jane knew any progress was going to be temporary at best.

“Thomas!” Jane called to the ensign. “We need reinforcements. Call the Agincourt!”

“No good, ma’am,” Thomas called back, ducking back under cover. “They have a jamming signal broadcasting. We can’t radio the ship.”

“Then go _get_ the ship!” Jane snapped. Thomas ran to obey.

Miraculously, Jane’s ragtag group of rookie soldiers held up well – if only because they spent most of their time hiding, with Jane shooting at batarians. Just as she was starting to think the situation wasn’t hopeless, another ship started to land with batarian reinforcements.

“Fuck,” Jane breathed. She looked around for something to use to take out the ship, wishing Elysium had installed the anti-aircraft guns the Alliance had recommended years ago.

Her eyes locked on the rocket launcher pinned under Erickson’s body, and she couldn’t help but give a bitter laugh. Erickson was always one to be over-prepared and over-armed; of _course_ he would have had a rocket launcher.

“Narita!” Jane yelled at the terrified soldier closest to Erickson’s body. “I need Erickson’s rocket launcher!”

Narita looked around, confused, before his eyes settled on the weapon under his deceased comrade. After a moment he was able to get it out from under Erickson, tossing it to Jane.

There was only one rocket in the launcher – she had to make it count. The ship that was landing was getting rapidly closer. Soon they’d be able to get troops on the ground. It was now or never.

She stood up out of cover, raising the launcher. Batarian ships had one key weakness, she’d learned in N-School: their cockpits were made of glass that was very fragile at short ranges.

When the ship was close enough that its docking bay doors opened for its landing shuttles, Jane fired. The rocket tore through the fragile glass of the cockpit, killing the pilot and exploding with enough force to rip the front of the ship off.

With the groaning and shrieking of metal, the ship crashed. Jane’s crew, reinvigorated by the unexpected success, pushed back the surviving batarians. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane could see the Agincourt heading towards them, ready to chase off the rest of the batarian ships.

“That was a hell of a fight, Lieutenant,” Narita said, once the last batarian was gone.

“It’s not done yet,” Jane commented grimly, looking at the wreckage of the crashed ship.

“Ma’am?” Narita asked.

“That’s a batarian slave ship,” Jane said.

“They were here to take people prisoner? To make them slaves?” it was Volkov, the youngest of the soldiers. She sounded terrified.

“Yes,” Jane nodded. “More importantly, there are slaves on that ship. We need to help as many of them as we can.”

*

It took all of Jane’s willpower to get her aboard the ship – with the power flickering, it was disorienting and eerie, and the despair of the slaves aboard was almost tangible. Her soldiers timidly followed her, eyes wide and scared in the dim light from their flashlights.

Jane had just turned to go down a hallway when Volkov said timidly, “Ma’am?”

“Yeah?” Jane asked, turning around.

The woman’s flashlight was trained on something on the ground. Immediately, Jane’s heart sunk. Narita breathed, “A turian. What’s a turian doing here?”

“This was a slave ship,” Jane replied, fighting off the chill running down her spine. “That’s what.”

“Must’ve died on impact,” Volkov squeaked.

Jane squatted down, looking at the body. She sighed. “No. Gunshot to the head. They must be in the mindset that if they can’t have their slaves, no one can.”

“That’s…awful,” Narita managed.

“Yeah,” Jane agreed. “Split up. Find and save as many turians as you can.”

Her soldiers all nodded and dispersed. Jane put a hand on the dead turian’s shoulder and whispered, “Spirits grant you peace, friend. You deserved a better fate,” before getting up to look for survivors.

She had just turned down a still-lit hallway when she heard a voice scream, “No, stop! Leave us alone!”

Jane ran towards the voice and found a female turian struggling with a pair of batarians. She yelled, “Hey! Leave her alone!”

Jane’s distraction gave the turian enough of an opportunity to get away from them and retreat into the room behind her. Jane wasted no time dispatching the batarians, hurrying over to the room the turian had hidden in.

She knocked, calling, “Hey, are you all right in there? The batarians won’t bother you anymore.”

“Leave us alone!” the turian yelled back.

Another voice, too soft for Jane to make out, said something to the turian Jane had seen, and suddenly the door unlocked and opened. The turian Jane had saved was younger than she’d expected, much younger than she was.

“Sorry,” the turian mumbled. “I was…scared.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jane soothed. “I don’t blame you. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” the turian replied. Jane looked over the younger girl’s shoulder and found another turian sitting on a bed. The older turian looked frail and weak, but unharmed.

“I’m here to get you out of here,” Jane explained, trying to comfort the still-agitated girl. “I’m with the Alliance. My name’s Jane. What’s your name?”

The turian hesitated for a moment before saying, “Solana.”

Jane recoiled, nearly tripping over her own feet. She knew that name very, very well – how many times had Garrus talked about his little sister? Could it…could it be the same Solana?

“Solana?” Jane managed. She looked at the older, frail turian, and continued, “You…is your name Vestia?”

“How do you know that?” Solana demanded.

“I…” Jane started. She suddenly couldn’t get out any words.

Solana caught sight of the double set of dogtags hanging around Jane’s neck, her beady eyes narrowing suspiciously. She stepped forward, lifting them up so she could read them. The girl saw Titus’s tags and hissed, “These are my father’s! Where did you get these?”

“Garrus,” Jane practically whimpered.

“My brother?” Solana demanded. “What did you do to him?”

“Solana,” Vestia scolded quietly. Solana backed up, though she still looked furious. The older turian looked at Jane, deep-seated sadness in her tired eyes. “You know my son.”

“Yes,” Jane nodded.

“You…are you the girl he was to take care of? When he was taken?” Vestia asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jane nodded again, feeling guilty.

“Why did he give you those dogtags? Or did you ask for them?” though her tone was soft, her implication was clear.

“I would never have asked for them,” Jane replied. “He…he and I became very close. When I went off to basic training, he gave me these for luck.”

“You talk about him in the past tense,” Vestia sighed.

“No, not like that,” Jane said quickly. “My parents…they sold him while I was gone. I haven’t seen him in years. I’m still looking for him. I’ll find him.”

“Why do you care?” Solana asked bitterly. “He was just your slave.”

“Because I love him,” Jane fired back. She paused, caught off-guard by how easily and thoughtlessly the words had rolled off her tongue. Of _course_ she loved him; she’d been chasing him around the damn galaxy for almost five years. Why had it taken so long for her to realize it? She recovered and said, “He’s my best friend. What happened to him was wrong. I’m going to fix it.”

Vestia smiled sadly. “Spirits help you, Jane.”

Jane was about to reply when a horrible fit of coughing racked Vestia’s thin body. When Jane looked alarmed, Solana sighed, “This happens a lot.”

“You need help,” Jane said dumbly.

“I’ll be all right,” Vestia replied with a tired smile. “I’ve managed this illness for a long time.”

“You won’t have to manage it any more. I’m going to get you some help,” Jane shook her head. She might not be able to do anything for Garrus right now, but she would do whatever she could for his family. Thinking of helping the turians brought her mission back into the forefront of her mind. “We can talk more once we get you off of this ship. Let’s get you somewhere safer.”

Jane was horrified to see how few turians were with her soldiers back on solid land. Narita was pale and downcast, mumbling, “The batarians killed the rest, ma’am. We saved as many as we could, and the rest of the batarians are dead.”

“You did your best, soldier. What matters now is helping the survivors. We need to get them somewhere better than here. With all the rebuilding, I don’t think anyone here will be able to help them,” Jane said.

“Where can we take them?” Volkov asked. “The captain said we’re supposed to stay here and help out. We can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m still on shore leave,” Jane replied. “I’ll rent a ship and take them to Palaven.”

“That’s a long damn way, ma’am,” Narita said.

“I’ve got a lot of shore leave built up,” Jane said dryly. “They need help, and some of them need medical attention. We didn’t just free slaves to throw them right back in it. We saved these turians, and they’re free now. They’re going home.”

Narita looked about to argue, but thought better of it. He simply nodded, “Yes, ma’am. Your call.”

Jane turned to the small crowd of turians, all of them a mix of confused, scared, and hopeful. She smiled, “Let’s get you all home.”

*

Jane wasn’t sure what she had expected from Palaven, but she was pretty sure it was nothing like what she’d imagined from Garrus’s brief descriptions. She hadn’t stayed there long, though, only long enough to ensure the turians were on their feet and were going to be all right.

Solana had walked with Jane back to her shuttle; Vestia was in a hospital, being treated for an illness that the doctors said would’ve killed her soon without treatment. The young turian still seemed to be unsure of how she felt towards Jane, but Jane was glad she had decided to see her off.

They were both quiet when they arrived at Jane’s shuttle. After a while, Solana said, looking at the shuttle instead of Jane, “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“It was the least I could do,” Jane replied quietly.

“I’ve known about you for a long time, sort of – I remember when my mom told me that I had an older brother who’d been sold. I didn’t know you, but I hated the idea of someone who would take my big brother away from me,” Solana went on. “But you’re not like what I expected. You’re…nice.”

“I never wanted Garrus to be a slave, and I never thought of him like that. He was just a friend to me,” Jane said. “I…what my parents did was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” Solana said, although Jane couldn’t fully believe her. “You helped us. You’re looking for him. You’re not a bad person because of…what happened.”

Sometimes, Jane had to wonder if that was true. Instead she promised, “I’m going to find your brother, Solana. I promise. You’ll get him back.”

“I don’t think so,” Solana shook her head. Jane gaped at her, surprised and hurt, before the turian went on, “It sounds like he’s going to stick with you, no matter what. And that’s okay. At least I’ll get to know him.”

Feeling suddenly inspired, Jane couldn’t help but do what Garrus had done years ago. She pulled off Titus Vakarian’s dogtags, pressing them into Solana’s hands. “Solana…I want you to have these.”

“My dad’s dogtags?” Solana regarded them, surprised.

“Garrus gave them to me a long time ago, for good luck in basic training. I was supposed to give them back when I came home, but…I didn’t get the chance. I want you to have them,” Jane explained.

Solana shook her head, handing them back to Jane. “I can’t take these.”

“But they’re your father’s,” Jane replied dumbly.

“Garrus gave them to you for a reason, and it sounds like you need some luck to find him. Besides, I never knew Garrus or my father. But you know my brother. I can tell you miss him, more than I know how to. Those dogtags are a little piece of him – keep them,” Solana insisted.

Jane reluctantly put them back on, still arguing, “A Vakarian should have these.”

“You might be a human, but you’re a turian at heart,” Solana smiled. “That’s close enough for me.”

Human and turian exchanged the awkward, stilted goodbyes of two people who barely know each other but wish they’ve known each other for years. As the shuttle started to lift off the ground with Solana waving goodbye, Jane felt more hopeful than she had in years. Two thirds of the Vakarian family was free and safe, and Vestia was getting the medical treatment she desperately needed. 

If she could pull this off, maybe she could find Garrus after all.


	14. Case Closed

It was ironic, Garrus couldn’t help but think, that he had been denied Spectre status largely on the grounds he was a turian, and here he was years later conducting an investigation into a turian Spectre.

Fate, or the spirits, or whoever, sure loved to rub his face in it.

At first, Garrus had been honored that he’d been chosen to head up such a high-profile investigation – Councilor Udina had lodged a complaint that a turian Spectre named Saren Arterius had attacked a human colony and the Executor had picked Garrus to investigate.

Almost immediately, he’d been reminded why sometimes he wanted to burn C-Sec headquarters to the ground. Goddamn Spectres with their classified files and authority to do basically whatever the hell they wanted made it hard to find any leads. For as much as he’d wanted to become a Spectre a few years ago, Garrus realized now what a shitty idea the whole organization was in the first place.

But Garrus was nothing if not persistent. He pursued the case doggedly for weeks, studying every scrap of information he could find about this Saren and the colony attack.

Turians had already suffered enough at human hands, and they were finally starting to make headway in getting their rights and their lives back. There was no way in hell Garrus was going to let one rogue Spectre ruin that chance for the rest of his race. He was going to catch Saren goddamn Arterius, no matter how long it took.

And now he thought he had something. It wasn’t much, but he’d heard of a quarian who might know something. She had had a run-in with Saren and been treated in a clinic in the Wards, so the story went. If he could find the clinic and the doctor that treated her, he could find the quarian and _finally_ have the net he needed to snag Saren.

The only snag: there were dozens of clinics in the Wards – he’d have to spend another week or so combing all of them. It was well worth it, though, if he could prevent the backlash against turians that he was uncomfortably certain was coming.

“Officer Vakarian.”

The voice startled Garrus out of his thoughts; he was on his feet, ready to fight, before he even knew what was going on.

Then his brain caught up.

Holy shit, it was Executor Pallin.

“Sir!” Garrus exclaimed weakly.

“I understand you’ve been looking into the human Councilor’s claim of Saren Arterius attacking a human colony,” Pallin said.

_He sure doesn’t waste time, does he?_ Garrus thought snidely. Aloud, he replied, “Yes, sir.”

“And how is that investigation coming?” Pallin asked. He didn’t look pleased – what was wrong?

“It’s coming, sir, slowly,” Garrus said. “Hard to find information on any Spectre activities, but I’m making headway.”

“Oh?” Pallin said simply. “What have you found?”

“Well…nothing yet, sir,” Garrus admitted awkwardly. When Pallin made to interrupt, Garrus went on quickly, “But I have a lead, a solid one.”

“One lead after three weeks?” Pallin scowled. “Vakarian, that’s not headway.”

“Like I said, sir,” Garrus hoped he was keeping the edge out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding, “It’s damn near impossible to find any information on anything Spectre-related. It’s a miracle I have this one lead at all.”

“I think it’s more of a fantasy,” Pallin huffed. ”You’re grasping at straws. If you haven’t found anything at this point, there’s nothing to find. I want you to close your investigation into Saren.”

“Wh…sir?” Garrus stammered, caught-off guard.

“You heard me, Vakarian,” Pallin scowled again.

“Sir…are you sure?” Garrus practically pleaded. “Just let me follow up on this lead. I’m sure it’ll take the case somewhere. I just need a little more time.”

“You’ve had plenty of it,” Pallin shook his head. “Close the case.”

“Sir…” Garrus tried again. Spirits, he hated begging like a child for the right to do this. “If we don’t pursue this, humans are going to try to get their version of justice by attacking turians. We’ve made so much progress…I can’t let Saren ruin all of that. We’ve got to catch him.”

“We would catch him and bring him to justice if Councilor Udina’s accusation was founded. Protecting turian dignity is not up to you, Vakarian. This case is closed. If you argue with me again, I’ll have you reprimanded,” Pallin snapped.

Garrus sighed – he knew when he’d lost an argument. “Yes, sir. I’ll close the case file today.”

“Good,” Pallin nodded. “I hate to waste your hard work, but your time is better spent on other things. Let this case go and get back to doing something helpful.”

“Yes, sir,” Garrus replied again.

Pallin left, not catching the rude gesture Garrus made at his back as he walked out of the room. Off the case, his ass. He had a couple more tricks up his sleeve before he’d completely admit defeat.

*

Actually _using_ the tricks up his sleeve were harder than he expected. He’d hoped the techheads he’d helped out in E-Crimes would give him a hand, ‘closing’ the case file while still giving him access to it and the ability to investigate.

In retrospect, Garrus realized, maybe he had put too much faith in the timid, twitchy salarians that primarily made up that division. Garrus had barely managed to say Saren’s name before they quickly ushered him out the door with rapid-fire, nervous apologies that they couldn’t help.

He’d even tried to cash in the few favors anyone in C-Sec would honor – the Special Response officer whose team was saved by information Garrus had uncovered, the patrol ship captain whose kidnapped daughter Garrus had found, even the Citadel Fleet commander Garrus had once cleared from a whole host of false charges.

As soon as the Executor’s name came up, Garrus was up a creek without a paddle. No one was willing to cross the Executor – even if he was just a turian, he held considerable sway and influence, particularly with the Council.

Well, Garrus wasn’t one to give up easily. He was a Vakarian, after all. His father had been a damn fine agent, and if he had given up his life to try to protect Garrus’s future, Garrus was going to do him proud.

There was one person left Garrus knew wouldn’t toss him out in the cold, not at least without hearing him out. He hated dragging Bailey into this mess, but his commanding officer was the only one who’d ever really given a shit about Garrus. If anyone on the Citadel would help him pursue this case, help him protect turians’ reputations, it was Bailey.

*

“Vakarian, I don’t know what to tell you,” Bailey sighed. “You’re asking me to go around the fucking _Executor_. I don’t like this job that much, but Christ, I do like _having_ a job.”

“Please, sir,” Garrus pleaded.

“Look, it would hard to find a more sympathetic ear than another turian. Pallin was damn lucky to keep his position and his freedom when the humans won the war, and he knows that. If there’s anything he can do to make himself look good and keep himself in the Council’s good graces, he’d do it. If he’s having you give up this case, there’s nothing there,” Bailey replied.

“But there _is_ ,” Garrus insisted. “I have a lead. Please, just let me follow it up. If nothing turns up, I’ll drop the case, no fuss.”

“What’s this lead?” Bailey demanded, crossing his arms. “Let’s hear it.”

Garrus looked around for eavesdroppers – a sketchy warehouse known for criminal activity wasn’t exactly where he wanted to have a conversation of this nature, but at least Bailey was giving him a chance.

“I heard about a quarian who has information linking Saren to the geth. She was injured and treated in a clinic in the Wards. If I can find the clinic, I can find her and see what she knows,” Garrus replied.

Bailey laughed. Garrus sighed, feeling a sense of déjà vu from his earlier conversation with Executor Pallin. Bailey snorted, “Vakarian, that’s not a lead, that’s a wild goose chase. What if this quarian doesn’t know anything? Hell, what if the clinics can’t help you find her?”

“Then I give up before the Executor puts my head on a stick,” Garrus replied dryly. “Look, sir. I don’t expect you to get it. But when your whole race gets kicked in the balls by the galaxy and then finally starts to get everything back, only for one person to go fuck everything up, you get mad. I’m not going to let Saren ruin all the progress we’ve made in getting our lives back.”

“You turians would be a lot more pleasant to be around if you pulled the sticks out of your asses every once in a while,” Bailey scowled right back. “And don’t patronize me, Vakarian. I might not be in your situation, but it doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it.”

Garrus paused, wondering if he should reply and risk digging himself a deeper hole, or quit while the hole was still relatively shallow. His desire to get the last word in won, though, and he just _had_ to say, “Well, sir, if you get it, then why won’t you let me follow this lead?”

“Because it’s _not a fucking lead_ ,” Bailey snapped. “Look, you’re a damn good agent. And I appreciate the work you did on this. It was well more than anyone else would’ve done. But I need you to get back to doing work that actually helps people, not chasing ghosts.”

“It _is_ helping people,” Garrus persisted, also annoyed. “If I get Saren, that does a lot of good things for the turians.”

“Don’t forget about the turians who live on the Citadel and need help too,” Bailey replied.

“I’m not,” Garrus scowled. “I’m trying to help everyone. Please let me pursue this, sir. Please.”

“For the last _goddamn_ time, Vakarian!” Bailey’s voice rose as his annoyance did. “ _No._ ”

“But sir –” Garrus stopped upon seeing how quickly Bailey’s anger was building.

The two men glared at each other, mentally regrouping for round two of the argument. Garrus was still scrambling for a decent argument when Bailey opened his mouth to shut down Garrus’s case once and for all.

Instead of a rebuke from Bailey, Garrus heard a question from a very different voice coming from somewhere behind him.

“Excuse me, officers – what seems to be the problem?”


	15. Finding Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I diverged pretty hard from canon in this chapter - all the same things happen, but in different orders, different ways, and for different reasons. Hopefully the result makes my liberties with canon worth it!

“Fuck the Council!” Jane snarled when Anderson finally came out of the Council Chambers. She had been sulking near the door, channeling her anger into fearsome glares at the C-Sec officers regarding her curiously.

“Easy there, Shepard,” Anderson tried to soothe as he trotted down the steps. “They’re politicians. Giving us the run-around is practically in their job description.”

“People _died_ because of Saren! I watched him kill another Spectre in cold blood,” Jane went on, still angry, as she joined Anderson. “I lost some of my squad on that mission, because of _him_. And the Council’s just going to take his word for it because he claims Nihlus was his friend? I don’t know about you, sir, but I don’t shoot my friends in the back!”

Anderson let her seethe a moment before asking good-naturedly, “Feel a little better now?”

Jane sighed, anger fading. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Anderson nodded. “I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you. But that meeting wasn’t a total loss.”

“How?” Jane snorted.

“They might have rejected our accusations against Saren, but the Council knew better than to do that without doing _something_ to appease Udina,” Anderson replied. “Saren is still a Spectre, but Udina insisted on appointing another Spectre, one he knew wouldn’t go rogue.”

“So now we have _more_ goddamn Spectres running around,” Jane scowled. “Free to do whatever they want with no consequences.”

“Easy, Shepard,” Anderson once again tried to calm her anger. “It’s not very becoming to talk about your organization like that.”

It took Shepard a moment to catch onto what he had hinted at. “Sir?”

“Udina wanted a human Spectre, and it certainly wasn’t going to be me. In light of your impressive service record – and what you’ve done for the turians – the turian Councilor nominated you,” Anderson replied.

“And they listened?” Jane gaped at him.

“Councilor Sparatus doesn’t have anything close to the power he used to, not when most of his people are enslaved. Hell, he’s only still a Councilor so the turians don’t revolt. But he had a strong case when he proposed they make you a Spectre. The other Councilors agreed,” Anderson explained.

“I…do I get a say in this?” Jane managed weakly. Being a Spectre was high on her list of things she never wanted to do – she was a by-the-book soldier, not some kind of Council spook.

“I didn’t think you’d complain,” Anderson chuckled. “You wanted to be an N7 to find that friend of yours? Imagine all the resources you’d have now as a Spectre.”

Anderson had a point, even if Jane hated to admit it. Finally she sighed, “Yes, sir. Good point.”

“Besides,” Anderson went on, “Executor Pallin of C-Sec was the one who insisted the case into Saren be closed. You’re not accountable to C-Sec, just the Council. You want to prove Saren went rogue? Well, now the only people who can tell you to stop are the Council, and Udina would do his damnedest to make sure that didn’t happen.”

Despite herself, Jane smiled. “You put a lot of thought into this, sir.”

“I do my best, Shepard,” Anderson replied. “If you want to get started, I’d try C-Sec headquarters. Throw your Spectre status in their faces and they’ll do what you need them to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Jane nodded. “Thank you."

*

C-Sec’s headquarters was _massive_ – Jane was more than a little intimidated as she walked into the lobby. _Not_ that she’d ever show it. She was Jane Shepard, first human Spectre, and she was going to prove the guilt of the rogue agent who’d disgraced her new organization.

Jane picked one of the officers, an asari, sitting at the large desk in the center of the room and walked towards her, calling, “Excuse me!”

The asari turned to look at her, looking very unimpressed. She asked flatly, “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for information about a Spectre named Saren Arterius. Who can I talk to about that?” Jane asked.

The asari rolled her eyes, now looking at Jane like she was stupid. “The point of Spectres is that their actions are classified, miss. You won’t have access to it.”

“I’m a Spectre,” Jane snapped back.

The asari looked cowed for just a moment before replying, sounding helpful now, “My apologies, ma’am. What are you looking for?”

“There was an investigation into Saren. I need to see the file,” Jane replied.

The asari typed rapidly into her console and regarded it for a moment before saying, “Unfortunately, you can’t do that, ma’am, even as a Spectre. The case file was ordered closed by the Executor, and since it involved a Spectre it was sealed. Only the Council can unseal the records. Do you have Council authorization?”

Under her breath, Jane grumbled, “Of _course_ it needs Council authorization.”

Loud enough for the asari to hear, she said, “No, I don’t.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, then, ma’am,” the asari shrugged apologetically.

“There’s got to be something I can do,” Jane half-pleaded.

The asari looked around for a moment before leaning closer to Jane, saying in an undertone, “Officially, no. But you can talk to the officer on the case. I don’t know much, but I know he was reluctant to close it – he and the Executor had a spat about it, from what I heard.”

“That’s promising,” Jane nodded. “What’s this officer’s name?”

The asari typed something into her computer again. She sighed. “Sorry, ma’am. I can’t find it. Must be a turian – slaves are in the system under their master’s information. It would take a long time to find his name.”

Jane frowned, more at the concept of slaves in C-Sec than the inability to find the officer’s name. She asked, “Can you at least find where he works? I’ll go from there.”

“Like I said, ma’am, I can’t find his file,” the asari replied. “I _believe_ he works in the Zakera Ward, but I’m not entirely sure. I’ve only really heard the gossip about his fight with the Executor.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Jane nodded. “Thanks for the help.”

Finding the C-Sec office in the Zakera Ward was significantly harder than Jane expected, but after almost an hour of wandering and futilely following her inaccurate map, she finally found it. It was much smaller and somewhat dingier than headquarters had been, but Jane had a feeling a lot more work got done here.

“Need something?” a salarian officer asked as she walked inside.

“I’m looking for the officer who was investigating Saren Arterius,” Jane replied. “I was told I might be able to find him here.”

“Who’re you to ask?” a gruff-looking human officer growled.

“Commander Shepard. I’m a Spectre,” Jane snapped right back.

The two officers looked at each other before bursting into laugher. The human snickered, “Wow, that poor bastard’s fucked. The Council sicced a _Spectre_ on him!”

“Wait, what?” Jane asked, caught off-guard.

“Idiot’s been trying to keep that case open for a good week now. Had a huge fight with the Executor, tried to cash in all these favors, all kinds of stuff. The Executor must’ve been pissed – that’s why they sent you, right?” the human replied.

“No one sent me anywhere,” Jane snapped. “I need to talk to that officer, for my own reasons.”

“He was just making a joke, ma’am,” the salarian said, although he looked as offended as his human partner did. “How urgent is this business?”

“ _Urgent_ ,” Jane practically hissed. God, C-Sec loved to be unhelpful and waste time, didn’t they?

“He’s out with Officer Bailey at the moment,” the salarian replied. “They went on a routine patrol only a few minutes ago. If you’d like to wait here, they should be back in a while.”

“Where?” Jane asked.

“Um…there’s chairs right there,” the human said, pointing behind Jane.

“Where is the patrol?” Jane demanded. “What’s the route?”

“A floor down, through the warehouses. Lots of merc activity there,” the salarian explained.

“Thank you,” Jane practically spat, despite being pleased she got an actual answer from the _very_ unhelpful agents.

She turned to go, prompting the human to comment, “Might want to take somebody with you. Bad area down there.”

Jane laughed as she left the office, although she did have common sense enough to pull her pistol from its holster. She wasn’t going to come this far and get so close to what she hoped was information that would put Saren away, just to get shot by a merc.

In retrospect, Jane wished she’d asked the salarian to be a little more specific. The warehouses were enormous, leaving her wandering around lost yet again. The odds of her finding her mysterious turian source or this Officer Bailey he was with weren’t good.

At least, they weren’t good until Jane heard yelling. Concerned, she ran towards the sound – had mercs gotten to the officers, or worse, some civilians? She came around the corner of some shipping crates and was relieved to find no mercenaries around, just an argument.

The arguing men seemed to be the agents she was looking for. One was a turian with his back to her, towering over a human man who was clearly very angry. She couldn’t make out either of their voices, but from their harsh gestures and the rising color in the human’s face, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.

Jane crept closer to them, hoping she could get to talk to them before one of them strangled the other – the man looked dangerously close to doing it, too. Neither of them noticed her, continuing with their fight.

She was almost able to make out what they were saying when she noticed the two of them pause, getting ready to renew their argument. This was her chance. Jane took a few steps forwards, making sure she was well within earshot before she spoke. She called, trying to sound commanding and authoritative, “Excuse me, officers – what seems to be the problem?”


	16. Just Like Old Times

Garrus silently thanked the mysterious voice’s owner, relieved that he was spared whatever scathing rebuke Bailey had been coming up with. Bailey said to the stranger, “No problem, ma’am. Just dealing with some _insubordination_.”

Garrus turned towards the stranger, ready to defend himself against the accusation, and instantly forgot how to speak.

Spirits.

It was Jane.

He tried to say something, anything, but his mouth just hung open.

Jane looked similarly surprised, her green eyes widening and her jaw dropping open. She had held a pistol in one hand, but it fell from her trembling hands to the ground.

She recovered much faster than Garrus did, clearing her throat and asking, “Are you Officer Bailey?”

Bailey regarded her curiously as she bent to pick up and holster her pistol. “Yeah, that’s me. Who’re you – and how did you know that?”

“I’m Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy,” Jane replied. “I was told you might be able to help me with a mission I’m on.”

“I’m flattered, ma’am, but I doubt it,” Bailey snorted. “I’m just a C-Sec officer.”

“Well, that’s what I need. I’m investigating a Spectre named Saren Arterius. I was told one of your officers was doing the same. I need to find him,” Jane said, crossing her arms. “Nobody could give me a name, but they seemed to think you could.”

Garrus stared at her once more, his shock renewed. Jane…Jane had been looking for _him_?

“You’re looking for him? You found him,” Bailey nodded at Garrus. “Officer Vakarian here. Fair warning, ma’am. There’s nothing in that case. We just closed it for a reason.”

“Regardless,” Jane snapped back. “I’m looking into it.”

“You want to waste your time, fine by me,” Bailey grumbled.

“I unfortunately don’t know much about this case. Can I borrow Officer Vakarian for a debriefing?” Jane asked, nodding at Garrus.

 _Please_ , Garrus thought desperately. Even if it was just a debriefing on this clusterfuck of a case, he’d do anything to spend time with Jane.

“Ma’am,” Bailey sighed, clearly getting annoyed. “I’m understaffed as it is. I’m not letting you borrow my best officer for a debriefing on a wild goose chase.”

“Officer Bailey,” Jane’s voice was still soft and polite, but ringing with more confidence and command than Garrus had ever heard from her before. “This case is not a wild goose chase. Officer Vakarian has been doing a damn fine job investigating this, from what I’ve heard. I need to know what he does.”

“And I’m telling you, no,” Bailey growled.

Jane sighed, a sharp huff of frustration and exasperation. “I hate to be a jackass, but I need to talk to your officer. So, with the authority granted to me as a Spectre, he’s coming with me.”

Bailey’s eyes widened in disbelief and surprise. Garrus could hardly contain his surprise either, yet again gaping at Jane like a fish out of water. A Spectre. Jane Shepard, the little farm girl who couldn’t win a fight, was a goddamn Spectre.

Then again, he corrected, Jane never really had been that helpless little girl. She was small and thin, and he had had to teach her to protect herself, but he’d always known she was going to do incredible things. Jane was stubborn to the last, determined, proud.

If anyone could become the first human Spectre, Garrus knew, it _would_ be Jane.

“My apologies, ma’am,” Bailey practically croaked. “Vakarian. You heard her.”

“Yes, sir,” Garrus replied, finally remembering how to speak again. He crossed the space between Bailey and Jane, hoping that he was doing a good enough impression of nerves when he actually wanted to burst with joy.

Jane was silent as they headed back towards the elevators to the other levels, making Garrus’s stomach churn. What if she hadn’t recognized him after all? What if she just needed to talk about this case?

As soon as the elevator doors closed, though, Jane pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He hugged her back with equal delight, both of them too overwhelmed to speak.

They stayed that way a long, long time, as if they were trying to make up for eleven years of lost embraces in a single elevator ride. Garrus could’ve stayed in that elevator with Jane forever, holding her tight to his chest. Somehow, some way, the spirits had blessed him today. Jane was here, with him, wonderfully and miraculously close. It was a dream he had known would never come true, and yet here they were.

“Garrus,” Jane finally managed to speak, removing her arms from around Garrus’s chest only to cup his face in her slender hands. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“That makes two of us,” Garrus replied, voice tight with emotion. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I wasn’t going to give up until I found you,” Jane said. She traced Garrus’s colony marks with her thumbs, not meeting his eyes as she admitted quietly, “I was starting to wonder, though. If it was possible. And I…I didn’t know what I’d do if…if I never found you again.”

“Hey,” with a gentle hand, Garrus lifted her chin until she was looking at him again. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m here, you’re here. Just like old times.”

“Yeah,” Jane nodded, roughly brushing away the tears that were sliding unwanted down her cheeks. “Just like old times.”

“Maybe not _just_ like old times,” Garrus amended, trying to get a laugh from Jane. “The food’s a little better here. View’s prettier. And there’s no damn farms.”

This got his desired response, eliciting a bright, musical laugh from Jane. After her laughter faded, she asked, “Speaking of food…do you want to get lunch? No one ever said this had to be a formal debriefing.”

This time it was Garrus’s turn to laugh. After years and years of longing and hoping and pining, lunch seemed so…anticlimactic. And yet at the same time, how could anything else have been more natural?

“Sounds great,” he nodded lamely.

Jane smiled at him, a sight that melted his heart, before she keyed in a command to the elevator, explaining, “There’s a little café I found yesterday in the Presidium. It’ll be a bit of a hike from the Wards, but it’s good.”

Garrus couldn’t have cared less where the restaurant was. For the first time in over a decade, he was getting lunch with Jane Shepard – with the woman he loved.

*

As always, Jane was right. Garrus soon found himself sitting at a little terrace café in the Presidium Commons, a magnificent view off to his left and a delicious meal on the table. All he could focus on, though, was the human woman sitting in front of him.

Garrus could hardly comprehend the idea of Jane in armor, but here she was, clad in the Alliance’s blue and black with an ‘N7’ stamped proudly on her breastplate. He’d never seen her in anything other than her civilian clothes; it almost made him feel like he was talking to a different person.

Armor aside, though, it felt like hardly anything had changed. Jane had a scar on her cheek now, but her eyes still sparkled with mischief and her smile was as big and crooked as ever. Spirits, he thought, his heart skipping a beat. Despite having her picture on his visor display, he’d never realized how that smile made him feel.

“Garrus?” Jane asked, her voice bringing him back to reality. “You okay, big guy? You’ve been staring at me like I’m a ghost.”

“Just remembering all the times we used to do this,” Garrus only partially lied.

Jane laughed. “Remember that shitty café we always used to go to on Elysium? What was it called…the Sol Café, or something cheesy like that?”

Garrus recoiled, surprised. “I just assumed it was my food that was crap.”

“God, no. Everything there was disgusting,” Jane shook her head. “I must’ve gotten food poisoning like three times.”

“Then…why did you always want to go there?” Garrus asked.

“It was the only place on Elysium that had both levo and dextro food. It didn’t seem fair to take you out to lunch to a place that didn’t have food you could eat. Figured we’d get food poisoning together,” Jane shrugged. “Certainly wasn’t much worse than your cooking.”

“I’m sorry, who made your birthday cakes for eleven years? I seem to recall you describing them as…oh, what was the word? Delicious?” Garrus teased, though his heart swelled with affection for Jane.

“I was just being nice,” Jane quipped back, but there was also affection in her eyes and smile. “The cook on the Normandy isn’t so great, either. Well, he blames his ingredients. Regardless, made me miss your cooking.”

“The Normandy?” Garrus asked.

“My ship,” Jane replied.

“ _Your_ ship?” Garrus repeated with a chuckle. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Look, I needed it for this mission. It’s only mine because the captain voluntarily gave up command,” Jane countered. She was blushing a little, clearly embarrassed. It wasn’t an emotion Garrus could recall seeing very often from her, but he secretly didn’t mind – the flush in her cheeks was becoming.

“Because becoming the first human Spectre and therefore needing a ship _somehow_ makes you having command of your own ship less impressive,” Garrus teased. “Commander Shepard. It has a hell of a ring to it.”

Jane chuckled a little bit, still embarrassed. After a moment she got the mischievous look back and replied, “That’s right, _Officer_ Vakarian. I’m not surprised you wound up in C-Sec. Like father, like son.”

“Runs in the blood, I guess,” Garrus agreed. “Wish I’d joined of my own accord, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

When Jane looked confused, he clarified, “My, er, owner was a C-Sec agent. He got tired of going to work, so when he won the jackpot at a casino, he bought me. I go to work so he doesn’t have to.”

The speed with which Jane’s expression went from mischievous to homicidal gave Garrus whiplash. She growled, “And the Council is okay with that?”

“As long as C-Sec runs smoothly, they don’t care,” Garrus shrugged. When Jane continued looking angry, he quickly went on, “Look, Jane, I don’t mind. I like working for C-Sec.”

She didn’t look like she entirely bought it. After having what seemed to be a long staredown with her plate, Jane looked back up at Garrus and asked, “Your…human. What’s he like?”

“To put it kindly, he’s a douchebag,” Garrus admitted. “He’s a drunk and a womanizer and gets a lot of joy using me for beer bottle target practice. But I’m rarely home, so it’s fine. He’s usually passed out when I get back from work. Makes me miss the farm, though. Certainly made me miss you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane’s apology was more of a breath than a voice.

“For what?” Garrus asked. If there was anyone in the galaxy that owed him an apology, it certainly wasn’t Jane.

“Everything,” Jane replied, returning to her staring contest with her plate. “My parents made you do so much on the farm, even when you were little. It wasn’t right. None of it is right. And then they sold you.”

“Jane, times were bad. I don’t blame them,” Garrus shook his head. “I didn’t want to leave, but I know your parents didn’t want me to either. They were desperate and they did what they thought was best.”

“Garrus, they _sold_ you,” Jane countered through clenched teeth. Spirits, Garrus had never seen her this upset or agitated. “It was horrible and it was wrong.”

“Jane, listen to me,” Garrus said softly, taking her tiny hands in his, “If your parents hadn’t bought me, I would never have met you. And they might have sold me, but we’re back together again, like old times.”

Some of the tension left Jane’s body, filling Garrus with relief. The last thing he wanted was Jane’s misplaced guilt to overshadow their friendship or their joy at being reunited at last. He had to ask, curious, “How are your parents? I hope they got back on their feet.”

“They’re…fine,” Jane replied awkwardly.

Her hesitation was slight, but just enough for Garrus to notice. He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and accused, “Jane. When was the last time you went home?”

Jane’s mumbled answer was inaudible, so Garrus pressed, “ _Jane_.”

“After basic,” Jane admitted, not meeting his eyes.

“Spirits, Jane, that was eleven years ago,” Garrus replied, surprised.

“I told them I wasn’t coming home until I found you,” Jane countered stubbornly. “What they did was wrong, and I wasn’t going to let them get away with it. Besides…it’s not home without you. It felt…empty.”

Garrus sighed. As bitter as he had been when he had been sold to McCarthy, he still missed the Shepards and had more than a little affection for them, particularly Hannah. The last thing he wanted was to add any more pain into the situation.

“Promise me you’ll visit them soon,” Garrus said. Jane nodded silently.

They were quiet a while – Garrus had forgotten how comfortable their friendly silences were, how good it felt to just be in Jane’s presence. It was amazing, he found, how many things he’d never realized he missed about Jane.

Eventually Jane broke their silence, fixing Garrus with a small smile and saying, “Speaking of visiting places. There’s a couple turians I met who want to meet you.”

“What?” Garrus asked. “Where?”

“I met them on Elysium, actually,” Jane replied. “I was there on shore leave, I just…was avoiding home. Some batarian slavers and pirates attacked. I took down one of their ships. We saved as many turians as we could…but there weren’t a lot of survivors. I got the survivors back to Palaven and tried to get them back on their feet. Two of them wanted to meet you.”

“Do these turians have names?” Garrus pressed – though he tried to keep his tone light, he was intensely curious. Two turians on a batarian slave ship. It couldn’t be…could it?

“Can’t remember,” Jane said, pursing her lips in thought. “Two female turians. It was almost eight years ago…I really can’t remember. I think one of their names started with a W? Or maybe a V.”

Garrus stared at her, struggling to fight down the surge of hope that shot through him. He managed to ask, “Vestia? And Solana?”

“Those sound right,” Jane nodded. Her face split into a big, triumphant smirk – clearly, she had remembered the whole time.

“Jane,” was the only word Garrus could get out. She’d done it. She’d done what Garrus never could, freeing his mother and his sister and getting them the life they deserved. “You…”

Jane’s smirk softened into a smile. “They live with a bunch of other free turians on Palaven now, and I send them money. Your mom was sick, but we got her to a doctor and she’s fine now. They’re happy there; Solana writes and updates me. Now that I’ve found you…well, it doesn’t make up for everything your family’s been through. But I hope it helps.”

Garrus could only stare at Jane, barely able to process the news. Finally he found his voice and stammered, “Jane…you…you’re amazing. How…I…Jane, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Jane shook her head. She took one of Garrus’s hands, interlocking her fingers with his as best she could. With her free hand, she pulled something off from around her neck and pressed it into Garrus’ hand. “Garrus, I would do anything for you.”

He looked down and found his father’s old, battered dogtags in his hand. Jane had clearly taken remarkable care of them – they gleamed in the sunlight as if she’d polished them many times. When he looked back up at her, she had a small smile and said, “I promised I’d take care of them and give them back. Here’s keeping that promise, even if it took a lot longer than I expected.”

Garrus could’ve kissed her. She’d done so much for him since he’d left Elysium, more than she could possibly realize. Spirits, what he wouldn’t do to kiss her, if only he had a way to know it wouldn’t put a strain on their friendship.

He had her back, though. Shepard and Vakarian, together again. That was enough for him.

After a moment, wanting to do something helpful for Jane for once, he awkwardly asked, “So…that debriefing?”

“You have information that Saren went rogue, right?” Jane asked.

“Not much. There’s a lead I didn’t get a chance to follow up,” Garrus shook his head.

“Well, we can check that out together,” Jane replied. “I know Saren went off the deep end – I watched him murder another Spectre. I just need something the Council will buy. Hopefully this lead of yours will do the trick.”

“It’s going to involve a hell of a search on the Citadel, and probably out of the system too,” Garrus said.

“And…?” Jane asked.

“And my owner isn’t going to let me do that,” Garrus replied, wishing he’d picked a less childish way to phrase it. Spirits, what he wouldn’t do to go with Jane – if only McCarthy didn’t have a death grip on Garrus’s life.

“Ah,” Jane said. That monosyllable was full of meaning, and Garrus wasn’t sure how to interpret it.

“I can help you find my source here, though. I was looking for a quarian who might have had information that Saren was working with the geth. She was treated at a clinic in the Wards,” Garrus went on. “I think she’s still on the Citadel. We can find her together…and then you can follow up on any information she has.”

“Save it, big guy,” Jane brushed him off. She finished the last bite of food remaining on her plate and stood up, tossing a credit chit on the table.

“Jane?” Garrus asked, confused.

“Come on. Let’s get going,” Jane replied.

Garrus said nothing, regarding her curiously. She scowled at him, “We probably don’t have a lot of time if we want to find this quarian before Saren does.”

“I…don’t follow,” Garrus admitted.

“I didn’t spend eleven years looking for you just to get lunch and say goodbye again, Garrus. You’re coming with me – unless you’d rather stay here,” Jane said. Her confidence faltered as she started her last sentence, as if she was actually worried Garrus would rather stay with McCarthy than join her. What a thought.

“I’d arm wrestle an elcor to get the chance to go with you, Jane. But you’re forgetting that I’m a slave. I can’t just…up and leave. No matter how much I want to,” Garrus sighed. “Not unless I want a warrant on my head. I’ll admit, the allure of being a fugitive is strong, but I don’t want to risk your mission with mercs chasing after me.”

His feeble attempt at dry humor didn’t change Jane’s fiercely determined expression. She thought for a moment before saying, “Well, then, let’s fix that.”

Garrus laughed for a moment before realizing she was serious. “How?” 

“I’m a Spectre now, and I need your help on this mission. Take me to this douchebag’s apartment. I’m going to finish this once and for all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, the moment you've all been waiting for. (:


	17. Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the chapter everyone's been waiting for: the one where Jane gives McCarthy what's coming to him.  
> There's a lot of foul language in this one, so...sorry.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Garrus asked, looking at the door to McCarthy’s apartment warily.

“Can you think of another option?” Jane replied, casting a skeptical look up at her friend.

“Uh…” Garrus started. He sighed. “No.”

Jane offered him a confident smile and knocked commandingly on the apartment door. There was a loud crash and bang from inside the apartment, and after a long pause heavy footsteps were audible.

“Jane, be careful,” Garrus urged quietly as the footsteps got louder. “He might be a drunk, but he’s strong. And he’s mean as hell.”

“Well, I’m determined as hell,” Jane replied, not moving her gaze from the battered door. “He can try all he wants, but I’m going to win.”

Finally the door opened, revealing a scruffy, unkempt man. He reeked of alcohol and looked like he hadn’t shaved – or changed – in days. Jane fought down a gag, instead asking coolly, “Jake McCarthy?”

“That’s me,” the man hiccupped back, words slurred. “The fuck are you?”

“Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy and Special Tactics and Reconnaissance,” Jane replied.

“Aren’t you a big fuckin’ deal,” McCarthy sneered. “What do you want? And what’re you doing with my turian?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Jane said, clenching her fist by her side to hide her anger. “Can I come in?”

McCarthy made no acknowledgement other than to walk away, pushing the door open more. Jane followed, choking down her revulsion at the state of the apartment. God, this place was filthy. How had Garrus lived here for eleven years? No wonder he liked C-Sec so much.

“What’d he do this time?” McCarthy snorted, going to plop down on the couch.

“Nothing wrong,” Jane scowled, fighting to keep her composure calm and professional. “A lot of things right, in fact.”

“That’s a fuckin’ first,” McCarthy laughed. Jane cast a glance at Garrus, who was resolutely staring at the floor, and grit her teeth.

_Fuck this guy_ , she thought fiercely. _Nobody treats Garrus like this and gets away with it. Nobody treats_ anybody _like this_.

“He was the lead officer on an investigation I’m expanding,” Jane explained. “I need his help.”

“Why should I give a shit?” McCarthy asked, popping open a can of beer.

“It’ll involve going out of the system,” Jane replied. “And I need him to come with me.”

McCarthy spit out his beer in surprise. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“No,” Jane scowled back, crossing her arms.

“Well, then you better find fifty grand,” McCarthy snapped. “I didn’t drop that much money on this useless turian to just give him away like a fucking puppy.”

Jane’s face twitched as she struggled to keep cool. She managed through gritted teeth, “If you have an issue, I’m sure the Council would be more than happy to find the funds to reimburse you. This case is a matter of _galactic_ security.”

McCarthy laughed again, finishing his beer, crumpling the can, and tossing it behind him. He taunted, “You seem pretty dead-set on takin’ him with you. You some kinda turian fucker?”

Jane had to close her eyes and silently count to five before she trusted herself to speak. She practically spat, “No, just _doing my job_. 

“Reasoning with him isn’t going to work,” Garrus said to her in an undertone. “Especially not when he’s drunk.”

“The _fuck_ did you say, turian?” McCarthy snarled, leaping to his feet. He stormed between Jane and Garrus, grabbing Garrus by the bottom edge of his cowl and roughly pulling him down to eye level. “You want to try it again?”

Garrus let out a strangled noise of pain instead; McCarthy sneered at him and shoved him to the ground.

That was it. Jane couldn’t take McCarthy and his drunken abuse of her best friend anymore. She had tried her best to be civil and polite, despite everything, but he’d crossed a line _no one_ was allowed to cross.

“Touch him again and I’ll fucking kill you,” Jane breathed, her pistol up and pointed at McCarthy as if by instinct. Garrus scrambled to his feet as the situation escalated.

“Like hell you will,” McCarthy taunted. “You’re just as pathetic as the fucking turians.”

Jane and McCarthy glared at each other, both seething with anger. She hissed, “Do you really want to find out?”

“Jane,” Garrus cut in, gently lowering Jane’s arm. “He’s not worth it.”

Her arm trembled as she struggled with Garrus before she sighed, hand falling to her side. “You’re right.”

McCarthy started laughing, getting ready to sneer an insult at the two of them. Jane, still furious, growled, “But he is worth this.”

She pistol-whipped McCarthy so hard he fell to the ground, a gash in his forehead. McCarthy stared swearing up a storm; Jane cast a glance at Garrus, who somehow managed to look nervous and deeply satisfied at the same time.

“You…you bitch!” McCarthy spat, staggering to his feet and lunging at Jane.

Jane let him grab her wrist, using that to flip him over her and onto the ground, pinning him down with her foot on his chest. She spat, very much ready to be rid of McCarthy, “You want to try it again?”

McCarthy said nothing coherent, growling and spitting furious curses instead. Jane looked down at him, crossed her arms, and said, “I tried to play nice. It seems violence is the only thing that gets through to you, so I guess that’s how it’s going to be.”

“What the fuck do you want, you crazy bitch?” McCarthy spat, struggling feebly against Jane.

“I’m going to let you up. You’re going to get me the paperwork you have saying you own this turian,” Jane explained icily.

“You have no right to do this,” McCarthy snapped. “I’m calling C-Sec.”

“I’m a Spectre, and this is for a mission. I can do whatever I need to do. C-Sec isn’t going to help you,” Jane growled back. When McCarthy looked like he was going to argue, Jane pressed down harder with her foot until he conceded.

Jane watched McCarthy warily as he disappeared into his room, ready to stop any kind of escape attempt or counterattack. He reappeared shortly, looking furious but unwilling to fight as he handed Jane a datapad.

“I want that back when this fucking mission is done,” McCarthy growled. “And I want that useless turian back too.”

Before he had finished speaking, Jane threw the datapad hard against the ground; it shattered, scattering shards of glass all over the floor. Jane tried and failed to hide a smug smile at McCarthy’s furious expression as she shrugged, “Sorry, my mistake. I guess you don’t have anything to show you own any turians any more.”

“You…” McCarthy seethed.

Jane only had to clench her fist for McCarthy to back away, although he still looked angry. She warned, “Give this up and leave both of us alone, or you’ll regret it. I won’t be so nice next time.”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” McCarthy spat.

“With pleasure,” Garrus commented dryly, quickly ushering a bristling Jane outside.

*

“Jane,” Garrus’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Yeah?” Jane asked, looking up at him. She was sitting in the lobby of Huerta Memorial Hospital, staring out the window – Garrus had been in so much pain from McCarthy’s attack that she insisted he see a doctor. He had protested, claiming it wasn’t that bad, but Jane had persisted. Garrus had suffered enough; he didn’t need to suffer anymore, not when he could be treated.

“Are you okay?’ Garrus asked, sitting down next to her.

“I should be asking you that,” Jane replied. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Garrus joked, but his tone was serious.

Jane sighed, looking back out the window. “I’m fine, Garrus.”

“I’d never seen you like that before. You had me a little worried,” Garrus went on, as if he couldn’t hear her. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

Jane sighed again. “No.”

“There we go.” Garrus gently elbowed Jane, trying to get her to look at him. She continued staring at the window. “What’s wrong?”

“Seeing him…seeing what he did to you,” Jane mumbled, trying to shake off the memory. “I…you’ve dealt with that for so long. I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have gone to basic. You’d still be on Elysium, and you wouldn’t have dealt with him.”

“Jane, that’s hardly your fault,” Garrus tried to reassure her; Jane’s stomach kept churning. “It’s not your fault at all. You got me out of that situation – that’s what matters.”

“You shouldn’t have been in it in the first place!” Jane protested. “You were a slave for over twenty years, Garrus. You didn’t deserve it, and you _certainly_ didn’t deserve _him_.”

Garrus got up, kneeling in front of Jane so he was at eye level with her, his hands on her shoulders. He insisted, “Jane. If I weren’t a slave, I wouldn’t have met you. And that’s worse than anything McCarthy could’ve done to me.”

The angry, guilty tears Jane had been fighting burst out as she hugged Garrus tightly. “I’m so sorry, Garrus. For everything.”

“Don’t be,” Garrus assured her once more, rubbing her back gently.

They stayed in their embrace long after Jane’s tears stopped falling. She finally managed, “You’re free, Garrus. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do for twenty-two years,” Garrus replied; one of his mandibles brushed against Jane’s shoulder as he smiled. “I’m going to see the stars with my favorite person in the galaxy. If…you’ll have me. Not sure what Alliance regulations are about turians on the ship.”

“I don’t care what they say,” Jane said fiercely, wrapping her arms tighter around him. “I don’t ever want you to leave again.”

“You should know I’m probably a lousy crewmember,” Garrus added dryly. “You’ve tried my cooking.”

Despite all her conflicting emotions, Jane laughed. “That’s okay. I’m sure there’s a computer or two that needs to be calibrated.”

“Mm. I get to spend time with you _and_ calibrate an Alliance ship. Must be my lucky day,” Garrus joked. Jane laughed again.

_It’s not just your lucky day, Garrus_ , Jane thought, savoring the feeling of his arms around her. _It’s mine, too._

“Let’s get you to the Normandy, then,” she said aloud, finally letting go of the embrace. “I’ll talk to the crew and help you get settled in.”

“Good thing I travel light,” Garrus replied with a shrug. “I’m already ready to move in, seeing that McCarthy has all my stuff.”

Jane pulled out a credit chit, loading some credits onto it and handing it to him. “You buy some stuff for yourself while I talk to the crew. It’s probably going to be a long trip, and I want to make sure you have everything you need. Just…call me if anybody gives you any problems.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Garrus agreed teasingly.

He gave her one more short hug before heading to the elevator to the Presidium Commons.

Jane watched him go, her anger and guilt slowly fading into relief and joy. Finally. She’d finally done it. She and Garrus were together again, and he was finally free. It had taken over a decade and caused more than its fair share of crises of faith, but it was over now.

_I love you, Garrus Vakarian_ , Jane thought as his figure disappeared from view. _I missed you so much. Now it feels…like I’ve come home_.


	18. The Normandy

Garrus was more than slightly intimidated as he stepped onto the Normandy, his small pack of new belongings slung over his shoulder. He’d never been on an Alliance ship before – hell, he’d never really met more than a handful of Alliance soldiers. What would Jane’s crew think of him? He knew Jane wouldn’t let anything happen to him, but he hoped they’d be kind to him of their own accord.

Garrus knew the Normandy’s design had been heavily influenced by turian ships; seeing the faintly familiar turian architecture somehow made him feel a little bit more at home. He knew where nothing was, not even where he’d be sleeping, but he could feel some of his nerves subsiding.

“Lost?” a male voice asked.

Garrus jumped and turned, startled. An Alliance soldier was standing there, looking startled in turn by Garrus’s reaction. He was tall for a human, with dark hair and eyes.

“Uh…” Garrus mumbled lamely. “Yes?”

The man laughed a little, offering a hand. “I’m Kaidan Alenko. You’re…you’re Shepard’s friend, right?”

“Garrus Vakarian,” Garrus nodded, shaking Kaidan’s hand. “Jane’s mentioned me?”

“Don’t let the commander catch you calling her by her first name,” Kaidan chuckled again. “She hates it.”

Garrus remembered the little girl he met on his first day on Elysium, stomping her foot and protesting that Jane was a stupid name, that Shepard was so much better. Looked like she’d finally gotten her way, after all these years.

“Old habits,” Garrus shrugged.

“Anyway, yeah, Shepard mentioned you when she debriefed us. Sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” Kaidan went on. “Look, I just want you to know that we’re not going to think any less of you because you’re a turian. I won’t, at least. I don’t care if you’re a human or a vorcha, as long as you pull your weight and have my back.”

“I’ll do my best,” Garrus replied dryly. “Not much good in a fight, but Jane seems to think I’m worth something.”

“If the commander thinks you’re worth something, you’re worth something,” Kaidan nodded. “She seems to think the world of you, and coming from Shepard, that’s a pretty big deal.”

Garrus felt his neck flushing blue – it had been a long damn time since anyone had spoken this highly of him. “Thanks, Kaidan.”

“No problem,” Kaidan shrugged. “Oh, hey – were you looking for something? I know the Normandy’s confusing when you’re first aboard.”

“Just a place to set my things, and maybe sleep at some point,” Garrus replied. “Been a while since I got anything like a good night’s sleep.”

“I’m sure. Shepard said you’d been in a bad situation,” Kaidan said. “Just head downstairs. Can’t miss the crew quarters. A lot of the bunks are taken, but there should be a couple for you to pick from. At this time of day it might be quiet enough for you to take a nap.”

“Thanks,” Garrus said, offering his hand to shake once more. “Good to meet you, Kaidan.”

“Same to you, Garrus,” Kaidan nodded, returning the gesture.

It didn’t take Garrus long to find the quarters on the lower level. It did, however, take him much longer to find an empty bed; the Normandy seemed to have a much larger crew than Garrus had realized. He eventually found one, though, wedged in the corner. It was a little ways removed from most of the rest of the occupied bunks, but it seemed more peaceful that way.

He set his pack down in the small footlocker attached to the bed, pulling out his new datapad and reading the Normandy’s technical specs, which an Alliance officer had uploaded to the device for him.

Spirits, it seemed like every electronic system conceivable onboard needed calibrating. The readouts were horrible – there was no way any half-decent ship would have specs this bad.

The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat startled Garrus back to reality. He looked up to see another human, this time a woman, though she had similar dark hair and eyes to Kaidan.

“You must be Shepard’s friend,” the woman commented.

Garrus nodded, setting down his datapad. He offered his hand, saying, “Garrus Vakarian. Pleasure.”

The woman crossed her arms. “It’s all yours.”

Garrus recoiled, surprised at her hostility. The woman went on, “So we’ve got a turian, a krogan, and a quarian all on the Normandy. And here I thought this was an Alliance ship.”

“I’m only here because of the mission,” Garrus replied, still caught off-guard.

“Yeah, I know. Shepard told us. Look, she’s the commander. It’s her right to bring in the squad she wants. Doesn’t mean the rest of us have to like it,” the woman scowled. “I know I sure don’t want you here.”

After Kaidan’s warm welcome, this soldier’s enmity was bewildering to Garrus – he certainly hoped that she was an anomaly. He couldn’t help but ask, hoping he sounded genuine instead of sarcastic, “Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re an alien. That’s enough for me,” the woman snapped.

“Ashley,” another voice said.

Both Ashley and Garrus turned – a human woman with striking silver hair was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. She looked very displeased.

“Doctor,” Ashley replied with a nod of greeting, though there was a resentful tone in her voice.

“Were you paying attention to _anything_ in the commander’s debriefing?” the doctor scolded.

Ashley didn’t dignify this with an answer, scowling at the doctor. The woman went on, “The commander has a right to choose the team she feels best qualified for the mission. If she believes that includes a turian, a quarian, and a krogan, then we abide by and _respect_ her decision.”

“Yes, doctor,” Ashley grumbled. She shot Garrus a glare before turning and leaving. The doctor sighed.

“I apologize for Ashley. She isn’t xenophobic, I assure you. She has…family history from the war. She’ll warm up to you,” the woman said.

“No worries,” Garrus shrugged. At least it seemed like Ashley’s demeanor was the exception, not the rule – he could handle one unfriendly face in a whole ship full of friendly ones.

“I’m Karin Chakwas, the chief medical officer here on the Normandy,” the woman went on. “You must be Garrus.”

“Garrus Vakarian,” he nodded, offering his hand. This woman shook it; though her handshake was firm, there was a kind of gentleness to it as well.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you from the commander,” Chakwas commented. “She speaks very highly of you.”

“She’s prone to exaggerating,” Garrus lied lamely, embarrassed once more.

“No, she’s not,” Chakwas fixed him with a stern look. “Low self-esteem can lead to a host of physical medical problems. I won’t have it aboard this ship.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Garrus nodded weakly.

“Speaking of medical problems, the commander relayed an incident you were involved in to me. Something regarding your cowl. She sounded very concerned and requested I examine you,” Chakwas said.

Garrus sighed. “I appreciate the concern, doctor, but I’m fine. She already had me seen in a Citadel hospital for it.”

“Yes, she made me aware of that,” Chakwas nodded. “But she was adamant they hadn’t done a thorough enough job.”

Since when had Jane been this overprotective? Garrus had always known she was a deeply caring friend, despite the hard exterior she sometimes wore, but she had never been quite like this.

The doctor seemed to notice Garrus’s confusion, as she went on, “Shepard does her best to hide it, but she cares immensely for her friends and crewmembers – when we lost a man on Eden Prime, she was devastated. I know the two of you have a long history together, so I’m sure this is simply her way of caring.”

Garrus nodded. “All right. I’ll appease her.”

He followed her out of the crew quarters and to what was clearly the medical bay. Another crewmember was inside the bay, sitting on one of the beds. He looked relatively unharmed and healthy, although he was cradling an arm like he was in pain.

Chakwas saw him first, sighing heavily. “Dare I ask, Jeff?”

“Thought I’d be helpful,” the man replied. “I was moving some boxes.”

“And?” Chakwas prompted.

“I think I broke my arm,” Jeff sighed.

Garrus blinked, surprised. Humans were certainly much more breakable than he’d realized, practically fragile compared to turians. Chakwas turned back to Garrus and explained, “Jeff has brittle bone syndrome; anything he does is likely to break something. Do you mind if I take care of this first? Not to minimize your injury, of course…you’re just less likely to complain.”

“What’s _that_ mean?” Jeff protested.

Chakwas tried to hide a smile. “Nothing.”

“I don’t mind,” Garrus said. “I can come back. I told Jane…er, Shepard, that I’d do some work on the computer systems.”

“Relax!” Jeff interjected. “You just got here. If you set the bar too high, all you’ll be doing is working!”

Garrus stared blankly at him. Wasn’t that the point of being on a military ship – to work hard and get things done? Apparently the Alliance was different than what he’d heard about the turian military.

“Jeff, if he wants to help, let him. Heaven knows we’ll need all the help we can get to convince the Council that the commander is telling the truth,” Chakwas scolded, pulling some medical tools out of a drawer.

“He needs to lighten up first!” Jeff protested. He turned to Garrus as best he could while still cradling his broken arm, adding, “Here, let’s try this. I’ve got a joke for you.”

“ _Jeff_ ,” Chakwas warned.

He ignored her, going on with, “What do you call it when a turian’s attacked by a big, spiky monster?”

Garrus stared at him blankly – it had been a long time since he’d more than eavesdropped on jokes, and those were just crude ones other C-Sec agents would exchange. He wasn’t entirely sure where this joke was going, but he was sure he didn’t have an answer.

When Garrus remained silent, Jeff finished, looking highly amused, “Friendly fire!”

It was a pretty good one, Garrus had to give him that. Chakwas, though, looked scandalized, scolding, “Jeff! Did you listen to a _word_ the commander said?”

“No, it’s all right,” Garrus cut in when Jeff started to look sheepish. It took him a moment, but he remembered a joke all the way back from the war, one his father had told him shortly before being deployed. “Here, I’ve got one. What’s the first command an Alliance officer issues in battle?”

“Uh…” Jeff thought for a moment. “I give up.”

Garrus laughed. “Correct.”

Jeff laughed as well; even Chakwas stifled the slightest hint of laughter. The man said, “I’ve never met a turian with a sense of humor. Name’s Jeff, but everybody calls me Joker. I’m the pilot.”

“Don’t encourage him too much,” Chakwas added, though she was smiling. “It’s the last thing he needs.”

“I’m hilarious, thank you,” Joker fired back. He tuned back to Garrus. “I’ve got another one – what does a turian use as a weapon when they’re out of ammo?”

“ _Joker_ ,” a new voice scowled. All three turned to look and found Jane leaning against the doorframe, looking offended.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Joker apologized quickly, although he couldn’t help but add, “He started it!”

Jane raised a skeptical eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She prompted, “Garrus?”

“Well…I may not have started it…but I certainly didn’t help,” Garrus replied unhelpfully, both unwilling to lie to Jane and to throw one of his new crewmates under the bus. Joker looked relieved, although Jane’s expression told Garrus that she wasn’t convinced.

Despite herself, Jane’s annoyed expression quickly melted into a smile. “Good to see you making friends, big guy.”


	19. At Last

Garrus was sitting on his bunk later in the day, reading on his datapad. Aside from Ashley, the rest of the crew had been warm and welcoming. He’d managed to avoid the krogan, somehow – he was postponing that meeting as long as possible, given their species’ tumultuous history. The quarian, Tali, was much younger than he’d first realized, but she’d clearly been through a lot on her pilgrimage and with her encounter with Saren. He got the sense that they’d end up good friends someday.

His omni-tool beeped with a notification, bringing him out of thoughts. It was a message from Jane – _Can I talk to you in my cabin?_

Garrus frowned, concerned, before quickly typing a reply – _I’ll be right up._

If anyone found it strange that the ship’s token turian was knocking on the commander’s door, they didn’t comment, carefully keeping their eyes locked on their work.

Jane’s door opened almost immediately and Garrus stepped inside, feeling wildly out of place. The cabin was relatively small and cramped, but private, with a bed, something resembling a shower, and a chair, loveseat, and small coffee table. Jane was sitting on the loveseat, reading on her own datapad.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Garrus asked, trying to hide his concern.

Jane set down the datapad, turning to face him. She smiled. “Nothing important. Just wanted to catch up more than we got to on the Citadel.”

Garrus relaxed, relieved. “Sounds great.”

“Want a drink?” Jane asked. She got up, opening a small fridge she had stored under her bed and pulling out two bottles.

“Spirits, yes,” Garrus agreed, heading towards her little living area.

Jane handed him a glass and one bottle full of a purplish liquid, instructing, “Pour. That whole bottle’s for you.”

Garrus looked at the label, curious, and nearly dropped the bottle. “Jane…this is Menaen brandy.”

“Yes,” Jane nodded. “I know what it is. I bought it.”

“Do you know how rare this is?” Garrus demanded.

“It can’t be that rare,” Jane raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been toasting you on your birthday with it for the last eight years.”

Garrus’s protest died in his throat at that revelation. “What?”

Jane finished pouring her own drink, sitting back down on the loveseat. “Since I turned 21, on your birthday I’ve bought both of us drinks and had a toast. I usually end up giving the brandy to the first turian I find, since I can’t drink it. It was just my way of…remembering you.”

“Jane…” Garrus managed. He poured himself a large glass of the brandy and protested weakly, going back to less dangerous emotional ground, “You shouldn’t have gotten this just for me.”

“Well, the only other dextro onboard is Tali, and she’s sixteen. Garrus, it’s not every day you get back someone you thought you’d lost forever. Let’s celebrate,” Jane waved him off.

Garrus sat down next to her on the loveseat; she rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence for a long time, basking in each other’s presence, before Garrus couldn’t help but ask, “Whatever happened to getting out of the Alliance once your parents were on their feet?”

He could feel Jane’s entire body tense and his heart skipped a beat – naturally, he’d picked the exact wrong thing to say. After a moment, though, she said, “Once I found out that they’d sold you, I knew I had to find you. I thought the Alliance was the best way to do that. I went to N-School so I’d have as many resources as I could to try to find you. I’m glad I did – if it weren’t for that, and for being a Spectre, I wouldn’t have found you.”

“You hated the military,” Garrus practically accused.

“I cared about you more,” Jane replied simply.

Her statement hung heavy in the air for a moment before she added quietly, “I thought about you all the time. I missed you so much. When…when I was explaining to Captain Anderson why he should let me finish my N6 training…with the way I talked about you, he thought I was talking about a husband at first.”

She laughed a little at her last statement, though she snuggled closer to Garrus. “God, I missed you, big guy.”

He leaned his head to the side, resting it on top of hers. “I missed you too, Jane. Er, Shepard.”

Jane laughed again, moving her head and giving Garrus a bemused look. “Looks like the crew got to you with the Shepard thing. We’ve been through too much together, Garrus – hearing you call me that is weird. Jane’s fine. Just for you.”

Garrus’s heart skipped another beat, this time from joy. _Just for you_. Despite everything, all the years gone, he had a special place in her heart that no one else did.

She smiled up at him. “You’re doing that thing again, Garrus.”

“What?” he asked, startled back to reality.

“You’re staring at me like I’m going to disappear,” Jane teased. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Eleven years is a long time to not see the person you love,” Garrus replied, aiming for joking and sounding heartfelt instead. “I want to make sure that you don’t disappear again.”

Jane’s smile broadened before her forehead creased in thought. Garrus regarded her for a moment, confused, before what he’d said truly registered in his brain. _The person you love_.

Oh, fuck.

 

It was all Jane could do to not gape at Garrus like he’d grown another head. Had she heard that right? Garrus… _loved_ her?

Well, that was news.

“Jane, I…uh…” Garrus stammered, his body screaming of tension as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jane warned, knowing he was probably about to backtrack. “Did you mean it?”

Garrus was silent for a long, long time. “Yes.”

“You love me,” Jane repeated.

“Yes,” Garrus confirmed again. He was staring at the floor, wringing his hands nervously. “Look, Jane…I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. I care about you more than anyone in the galaxy. I just want you to be happy.”

Jane smiled at the sentiment, barely stifling a giggle at how misplaced it was. She asked quietly, “Why would it ruin our friendship?”

“Well…er…it’s…awkward,” Garrus managed.

“I think it’s serendipitous,” Jane replied. When Garrus dared to look at her, confused, she went on softly, “Garrus, I love you too.”

Now it was Garrus’s turn to stare at her like she’d spontaneously grown a limb. After a long silence he managed, voice thin, “Jane, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings.”

A flash of anger ran through Jane, hurt that he would think she was lying to him. She smothered it immediately, though – living with someone as cruel as McCarthy for so long had to have done _something_ to his confidence and self-esteem, no matter how much Garrus had tried to ignore him.

“I’m not,” Jane replied instead, putting a gentle but firm hand on his. “Garrus, I love you. I…I always have.”

“But…” Garrus still sounded like he was in disbelief. “…I’m a turian.”

“And I’m a human,” Jane replied, trying and failing to hide a laugh. “That doesn’t matter to me. You’re just Garrus to me. And I love you.”

The tension in his body finally melted away and Garrus’s mandibles spread into a smile. He started to pull her into a tight hug, murmuring, “Jane, I love you too.”

Jane decided to be bold as Garrus pulled her closer, crashing her lips to his as they embraced.

In retrospect, she decided, it was a bad idea. She didn’t regret it, but it wasn’t her best tactical move.

Garrus’s skin was even tougher than she remembered and his mouth was far less flexible than a human’s was – she might as well have run face-first into a wall. He recoiled, startled by the kiss, although he didn’t look offended.

“Jane,” Garrus sounded horrified once they separated. “Your lip…”

Jane raised a hand to her mouth and found blood. She laughed, more than slightly embarrassed that her attempt at romance had left her with a split lip. Garrus was regarding her worriedly, looking almost scared, so she assured him, “I’m fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve wound up with a fat lip.”

He still looked concerned, even a little guilty that he’d hurt Jane. She mentally scowled at his imaginary protest – she had been the one who initiated it, not him. She wasn’t going to let him feel bad about it.

“So turians clearly don’t kiss,” Jane commented dryly, wiping the blood off her lip. “So what _do_ you do?”

This brought a smile back to Garrus’s face, filling Jane with relief. He once again pulled her close to him, more gently this time, before resting his forehead against hers. Through their contact, Jane could feel his rumbling vocals as he explained simply, “This.”

“You used to do that all the time,” Jane remarked, surprised, though she didn’t shy away from the contact. “Back on Elysium. I always wondered what it meant.”

“It means I love you,” Garrus replied. “It was platonic when we were kids, like what I’d do to tell my sister I love her.”

“I’m glad it’s not just platonic anymore,” Jane said, pulling away from the contact and pressing a kiss to one of Garrus’s mandibles.

Garrus had no reply except a soft, contented sigh. They remained that way for a long time, loosely tangled in each other’s arms, before Garrus asked sheepishly, “So…what now?”

“I propose a toast,” Jane replied simply, picking up her long-forgotten glass of wine and handing Garrus his brandy. “To us.”

“At last,” Garrus agreed, clinking his glass to hers.

As they sat together on her tiny loveseat, relishing in their drinks and each other, Jane wondered how she’d ever thought she’d known what true happiness was before this moment.


	20. A New Beginning

As the afternoon faded into evening and then night, the bottles grew emptier and Garrus and Jane’s inhibitions faded. Jane lay draped across Garrus’s lap, her arm lazily dangling off the loveseat. Garrus was content to simply sit, idly running his hand through Jane’s impossibly soft hair. Spirits, he didn’t understand how anything could be so soft.

They lounged there a long time before Garrus reluctantly broke the silence with, “Jane?”

“Yes?” she replied sleepily.

“I can’t feel my legs. Can you, uh, move?” Garrus asked.

“But I’m comfortable,” she complained, stretching and offering him a smirk, knowing how difficult it was for him to say no to her.

“Please? Appease your turian boyfriend?” Garrus pleaded, opting to imitate her petulant tone.

“Maybe,” Jane drawled, shifting so that even more of her weight was on Garrus’ lap. “What’s in it for me?”

Try as he might, Garrus couldn’t think of an appropriate reply, and Jane knew it. She teased, “That’s what I thought.”

Garrus sighed, resigning himself to the cruel fate of being trapped under the most beautiful woman in the world. Almost immediately, though, an idea hit him. Jane was playing dirty, using his substantial weakness for her to her advantage.

Well, he would use his substantial strength to _his_ advantage.

Garrus set down his glass of brandy and scooped Jane up in his arms, purring, “I’ll just make you move.”

Jane let out a surprised shriek and a giggle – sounds Garrus never expected to hear from her – as he picked her up. She weakly tried to protest as Garrus got up and headed towards the bed; he couldn't help stumbling a little from the lack of feeling in his legs.

He made to toss her onto the bed, to get even with her earlier childishness, but at the last moment she latched her arms around his neck and proclaimed, “If I’m going down I’m taking you with me!”

Garrus protested to no avail as they fell tangled together. Jane was silent for a moment when they landed; Garrus’s stomach was instantly in knots as he wondered if he’d hurt her.

Almost immediately, she burst into laughter, pressing a kiss to Garrus’s forehead and giggling, “I had you there for a second.”

Garrus pulled her close, her back to his stomach, and nuzzled her cheek. “You’ve always had me.”

Jane scowled, turning to face him. “A slave joke, really?”

He recoiled, surprised, before realizing how Jane interpreted his words – despite everything she’d done to help him and other turians, it seemed her guilt was always at the forefront of her mind. He quickly corrected, “Not like that, Jane.”

She sighed, though she pressed herself closer to him. Jane anxiously ran her hand up and down his arm, mumbling, “I’m…sorry. I know you didn’t mean it like that. I just…I…”

Garrus took her hand in his. “It’s okay. I promise. I don’t hold it against you, but I know you still feel guilty. We’ll…we’ll work through that together.”

“Together,” Jane agreed quietly. She paused and said, “There’s a line from an old human play. ‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’ or something like that. If we’re anything to go by, it sure doesn’t. But if anybody’s worth it, it’s you.”

Garrus smiled, hugging Jane tighter and hoping the gesture said all the things he didn’t yet know how to say.

After a long silence, Jane asked timidly, “Garrus?”

“Mm?” Garrus replied, preoccupied with nuzzling her cheek and shoulder again.

“When did you fall in love with me?” Jane asked, almost shyly.

Huh. Wasn’t that a hell of a question. Garrus wasn’t entirely sure when he fell in love with Jane – had there ever really been a time before that? Loving Jane had been both as sudden as a gunshot and as gradual and natural as falling asleep. Much like Jane, Garrus realized. She was both so fierce and so gentle, so proud and so humble, a walking human contradiction that perhaps explained how she’d fallen in love with a turian.

“I’m…not sure,” Garrus admitted. “But I do know when I realized it. You were at basic and I kept writing you letters, even though I knew you wouldn’t get to read them. It didn’t really occur to me until years later, of course, when I was applying to be a Spectre.”

There was a beat before he realized, “Spirits. You did get to read those letters, didn’t you?”

Jane laughed. “Yeah. I read them when I got back from basic. It was…hard.”

“I sounded like a lovesick teenager in the last one,” Garrus admitted sheepishly. He paused. “Then again, I guess I was.”

Jane laughed again. Garrus went on, hesitant, “What about you? When did you realize it?”

“When I got back from basic,” Jane replied, trying to fight off the horrible memory of learning the person who meant everything to her was gone. “When mom and dad told me they’d sold you and couldn’t understand why I was so upset, I remember almost screaming at them that I loved you. But it didn’t register until later for me, too. When I freed your mother and sister. Solana asked why I cared, and I didn’t even have to think – because I loved you.”

“Looks like we just missed each other, then,” Garrus commented dryly. “If we’d figured it out any earlier, I wonder if things would have been different.”

Jane’s heart broke at the idea. What she wouldn’t do to have those eleven years back with the love of her life. Eleven years of happiness and being together, instead of mourning and remembering and searching.

Garrus felt her sudden tension, once again pulling her even closer. “We won’t get that time back. But what matters is now. We’re together and we have all the time in the world.”

Jane smiled, relaxing into his embrace. “I’ll never let you go again, Garrus.”

“I like the sound of that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this story has been an emotional journey. I came up with the idea well over 6 months ago, never realizing how lengthy this story would get or that writing it would get me through a particularly rough patch in my life. An indescribably huge thank you goes to my wonderful beta, best friend, and pseudo-sister, paradox_thought16, for getting me through this story and all the life drama that coincided with it.
> 
> Another indescribably huge thank you goes to you, my wonderful readers! You all have been so kind and so supportive, and I'm so thrilled you stuck with Jane, Garrus, and I until the end. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing for you.
> 
> With that...LittlebutFiery, out.


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